


Mass Effect mischief

by DefaultJane



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Attempt at Humor, F/F, Random & Short, shaynor, shiara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-02-05 03:48:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12786300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaultJane/pseuds/DefaultJane
Summary: This will contain short one shots I've written based on prompts and ships sent to me. I will add more characters and tags as I go along. Each chapter is its own story, usually not much longer than couple of thousand words, possibly less. They aren't edited much after writing so you're basically getting it straight out of the oven which means they'll proooobably leave a lot to be desired at least in some aspects. Then again, what can you really expect, most of these were written in an hour or two. xD Regardless, I hope you'll find something you'll like. :)





	1. Tears of wine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a response to the prompt “is there any reason as to why you’re getting drunk on a tuesday afternoon?"

* * *

Samantha’s heart dropped to her stomach when she read the message from Shepard. It should’ve been made illegal to send a simple “We need to talk” to someone, especially if that someone was already prone to being somewhat nervous as it was. What made it worse was that she had no way of telling what this could be about because frankly, thanks to the recent events, it could be literally anything. Could be about the toothbrush Shepard still owed her, could be Shepard telling her this wouldn’t go any further than a few hours of passion, or that it shouldn’t have happened in the first place. Or maybe it would be something work-related, high praise or the opposite for not doing more (that more being what exactly, she couldn’t say because she didn’t think there was anything more she could’ve done).  


Once her shift was over, Samantha headed to the lounge where Shepard was. She stepped in and was about to announce her presence when she noticed Shepard wasn’t alone, she was sitting at the bar with Tali.

“Did you know that baby elephants suck on their trunks for comfort, like human babies suck on their thumbs?” Tali queried and Shepard shook her head.  
“I did not know that. But I’m surprised you do.”  
“They have their trunks, I have my emergency induction port.”  
“That’s still a straw, Tali.”  
“Shut up, Shepard. You don’t know what it’s like to be a nervous baby elephant,” Tali scoffed, struggled to get the straw in place and then sucked on it, making a loud slurping sound when the liquid in her glass began to run out.

“You wanted to talk to me, commander?” Samantha cleared her throat and Shepard swiveled around in her seat, raising her arms in the air happily, almost falling over but managing to regain her balance at the last moment.  
“Specialist Traynor! Come have a drink with us,” she said, and Samantha quirked an eyebrow.  
“There is no ‘us’, Shepard, I’m going to bed,” Tali promptly informed her and got up, needing a moment to lean to the bar before staggering out of the room slowly.

“Well, more for us. Come on, have a drink. I promise I’m more charming if you’re loaded,” Shepard chuckled, and Samantha sighed.  
“Is there any reason as to why you’re getting drunk on a Tuesday afternoon?” she asked and took a seat where Tali had been sitting earlier.

“In all honesty, I didn’t know it is a Tuesday afternoon,” Shepard answered, refilled her glass and was about to pour Samantha one too, but the specialist covered the glass with her hand and shook her head in a silent “no thank you”.

“And besides, do I really need a reason? …and if I do, don’t you think I have a ton to choose from? Take your pick,” Shepard shrugged.

If Samantha had to guess, she’d have to say losing Thessia was on the top of Shepard’s reasons for feeling defeated at the moment, but she didn’t mention it out loud.

“You said you wanted to talk to me,” she reminded the commander instead and Shepard nodded.  
“I did say that, yes, but now that we’re here, I don’t really have anything to say, I just…”  
“You just wanted to cause me heart palpitations with the cryptic message?” Samantha smirked and Shepard chuckled awkwardly.

“Yeah, totally, you know me, I like to have a dramatic effect on people,” she then said, her bravado and mirth anything but genuine, merely the by-product of whatever cocktails she’d indulged with in a desperate attempt to distract herself from what was happening and feel… if not happy, then at least nothing rather than the crushing pressure of what seemed to be an inevitable doom.

If Shepard was honest, she’d just wanted a shoulder to cry on. Typically, that wasn’t an option because she was always the shoulder. Recently she’d been the shoulder for the entire galaxy and their mother.  
Crying wasn’t like Shepard, never had been. She was more talented at shrugging the pain off or deflecting it with sarcasm or dark humor. But even she had a breaking point.

Samantha didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to. Instead, she stood up and wrapped her arms around Shepard, the commander easing into the embrace, slumping against Samantha’s chest, her arms around her waist.

“It’s okay. You’re not alone in this anymore,” Samantha said, ran her fingers through Shepard’s hair and nuzzled the top of her head as she held onto her. Shepard’s shoulders twitched as she sobbed silently, embarrassed for a moment, but ultimately beginning to feel better as she let it out.

“Please don’t tell anyone that just happened,” Shepard sniffled after a long moment when she sobs finally ceased.  
“As if anyone would even believe me if I did,” Samantha said, offering a lopsided smile and Shepard let out an amused scoff.

“You could show them the front of your uniform,” she sighed, nodding toward the wet patch on the fabric.  
“Obviously I spilled something. I can be so clumsy,” Samantha shrugged.

With that, they exited the lounge and rode the elevator back to Shepard’s quarters before anyone would stumble in to see the commander in such a state. Not that they wouldn’t have understood, but at the same time, Shepard did have a reputation of a demigod to uphold. Yet another title she had never asked for or wanted, but had still ended up with because she’d done the impossible… only because no one else had bothered even trying.

Once in the privacy of Shepard’s quarters, Samantha helped her peel off her uniform and walked her to the bed, pulled the covers back and tucked Shepard in.

“Don’t leave,” Shepard muttered, already half asleep, her words muffled by the pillow she’d mushed her face into.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” Samantha promised in a whisper, removed her uniform and got into bed as well, leaning against the headboard, sitting half upright as Shepard moved to rest her head in Samantha’s lap.

“I love you, Sam,” the commander mumbled, and Samantha’s heart skipped a beat. She’d never said it before, and frankly, Samantha hadn’t expected her to either. Not in this situation, it was too dangerous, it was too easy to lose someone, love was a luxury she couldn’t afford to indulge herself with, it would hurt too much, not to mention how badly it would hurt the person she loved if something… _when_ something would undoubtedly go wrong. She didn’t want that on her conscience, but still… if she ever were to admit how she felt, this could be her last chance.

“I love you too, Shepard,” she responded quietly, softly stroking Shepard’s hair and caressing her forehead with the side of her thumb, a smile curving her lips when she saw the troubled expression on Shepard’s face slowly melt away as the redhead began to drift off to sleep. For the first time in months, Shepard’s slumber was peaceful, not plagued by nightmares summoned from her subconscious by the perpetual worry and stress she lived under, and for one precious moment… all was right in the universe.

***

 


	2. Alley-Oop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to "Why do you even care?" Shepard/Cloneshep friendship" and "I’m not saying I want a threesome but I wouldn’t be opposed to it” combined.

”Four out of seven!” the Shepard-clone demanded as the commander bounced the basketball back and forth from left hand to the right one.  
“I’m not sure I feel up to it,” the commander shook her head, pretending to yawn as she showed off a little more by spinning the ball on her fingertip.

“Ah-ha! So, you admit you’re tiring. You’d lose and you know it,” the clone smirked, standing up straight with her hands on her hips, trying not to sound out of breath and failing at it, miserably.  
“No, it’s just that I’ve already won three out of five, so I don’t see what you think you’ll accomplish here.”

“I’ll beat you if given the proper chance, that’s what.”

“Yeah, keep up that bravado, your attempt at taking me out worked so wonderfully the last time,” Shepard almost giggled and shook her head. “Why do you even care?” she then asked, trapped the ball in place between her arm and hip and put her free hand onto the other, shifting her weight a little.

“Because I don’t understand why you and not me!” the clone exclaimed like a frustrated child.

“Experience!” Shepard yelled before the other Shepard had even finished her sentence, and shot the ball at the clone who wasn’t anywhere near prepared for it and ended up getting hit in the face. Shepard caught the ball easily as it bounced back from her clone’s head, and she then idly dribbled in a small circle.

“You see, you may be my clone as far as my DNA and the rest go, but I’ve got over thirty years of experience in being me,” Shepard began her explanation while her clone wiped the blood from her nose with the back of her hand. She glanced at the red streak on her skin and sneered as she lunged at the commander who side-stepped her attempt at stealing the ball easily.

“I’ve trained my body and my mind to be what they are,” Shepard huffed, taunting the clone by letting her get close only to fail at her attempts at the last moment, but it was necessary if the other Shepard was to ever learn some actual life lessons.

“I am the result of decades of conditioning and training. You were grown in a petri dish. You look like me, but you are nothing like me,” Shepard lectured, dashed across the empty space they’d cleared for their game in the cargo bay and threw the ball over her shoulder. It sunk in smoothly before hitting the floor and finally rolling into the shadows of the cargo bay.

“You haven’t lived the life I have lived. You don’t know what it is like to form friendships. You don’t know what it is to _have to do_ everything you can to survive, you’ve merely been a dipshit to everyone just because you’ve felt like it. You don’t know what it is like to lose people you genuinely care about because you’ve never cared about anyone. _That_ is why me and not you,” Shepard said.

“You can grow up to be like me if you let go of your petty need to be better than I am, and focus on living your own life and learning your own way. But either way you might as well stop trying to one up me, because I can promise you right now, that is a war you will lose,” Shepard continued and held out her arm. The clone stared at it, licked the drops of blood that had slipped over her upper lip from her nose and scoffed.

“All right,” she said and reached to grip the commander’s hand, shaking it a little as a promise of truce.

“Good! So, rematch? Or are you too tired?” the commander smirked.  
“You wish I was, loser,” the clone laughed.

“You mean ‘You wish I were’,” the commander corrected.  
“Shut up and play ball!”

As they continued their game, Jack emerged from the elevator and a wide grin spread on her lips when she spotted Samantha Traynor standing by the armory with James and Steve. At least James and Steve had a valid excuse to be here.

“Hey, Traynor. Enjoying the show?” Jack chuckled as the two Shepards continued their friendly rivalry.  
“I’m not here for any show,” Traynor muttered absently, leaning her hip into the console by the armory as she watched the two women play.

“Sure, sure, I can see why a communications specialist would have reason to spend excessive amounts of time in the cargo bay…”  
“All right, all right, what do you want from me, Jack?” Traynor sighed.

“Hey, I’m not blaming you,” Jack shrugged nonchalantly and extended her arm until the back of her hand softly impacted into Traynor’s arm and she looked down, realizing Jack was offering her popcorn. Silently, Traynor grabbed a handful.

“Have you ever thought about a threesome with those two?” Jack then asked and Traynor almost choked on the popcorn.  
“I have not! But now that you mention it… I’m not saying I _want_ a threesome, but I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” Traynor pursed her lips as she pretended to seriously consider it.

“Hah, knowing the commander, you’d end up being the third wheel who sits on the edge of the bed while the other two play with each other,” James remarked.  
“Are you speaking from personal experience, mister Vega?” Steve couldn’t resist taunting him even though he knew he’d get called a pendejo for it.

“How do you tell the two of them apart anyway?” Jack asked, ignoring the two men.  
“The real Shepard has scars,” Traynor explained.

“Yeah, but she could get those fixed, then what would you do?”  
“I think I’d know either way.”

“I have an idea. Let’s get Shepard… your Shepard… drunk and when she passes out, I’ll tattoo ‘property of Samantha Traynor’ on her ass,” Jack said, sounding genuinely excited by this.  
“You jest, but I will talk her into it,” Traynor smiled mischievously.

“Really? Care to make it an official bet?” Jack’s eyebrow quirked and she leaned back, crossing her arms over her abdomen.

“What’s the wager?”  
“If you can’t talk Shepard into it and I win, I get to tattoo ‘Property of Jack Subject Zero’ on your ass because you just had your ass handed to you.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” James muttered and Jack threw her arm back, her elbow impacting into his midsection. He groaned and doubled over, protesting loudly that the punishment didn’t fit the crime.

“And if I win… You have to dress up as a Cerberus cheerleader and perform a cheer for Miranda Lawson,” Traynor countered and she could swear Jack visibly paled at the mere thought.

“Fine, but you’re in charge of getting me the costume.”  
“Fine,” Traynor said and they shook hands on it.

Within twenty four hours from that moment, Shepard was sporting a tattoo that read “Property of Samantha Traynr”. When she’d questioned the missing O, Jack had commented that Shepard would need to bend over for that to become visible. Apparently it was her charming manner of being a sore loser.

But being basically called an asshole was well worth seeing the cheering routine Jack had to perform.

 

***


	3. Nemo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to "just sit down and let me take care of you for samantha Samantha/ cloneshep (non sexual relationship but flirting is allowed) 1 for shep/cloneshep (following 14) ;)"  
> I decided that Shepard’s clone has named herself Nemo (and no it's not a reference to the flipping fish, it's a reference to the Latin word for Nobody), because I think it suits her well and I needed a name to call her other then “the clone” or “other Shepard”. Takes place sometime after the reaper war, everyone’s alive and well, things have been fixed and they’re traveling around in the Normandy like the good old days, except they’re probably mostly doing supply runs and stuff like that, stop asking for so many details, shhh… shh…. >.>

”Oh, for the love of… what happened to you?” Samantha sighed when she walked into the mess hall and saw Shepard’s clone, Nemo, sitting at the table with a bottle of what Samantha had to assume was some kind of alcohol. She was obviously a little drunk, but Samantha wasn’t sure if it was solely because of the drink; judging from the way Nemo’s face was bruised up and blood caked over the wound on her left eyebrow, she could’ve been punch drunk too.

“This is nothing, you should see that Krogan’s face,” Nemo scoffed, waving her hand dismissively.  
“You do realize the med bay is right over there, like, literally three steps away,” Samantha pointed out.

“I do and if I had a genuine reason to go there, I would,” Nemo said, took a sip from the bottle and gestured toward the med bay with her hand, “Besides, your worse half is in there, the doc’s busy.”  
“All right, fine,” Samantha sighed and disappeared for a while only to return a moment later with a wet towel.

“Oh, come on, just leave me alone,” Nemo grumbled like an angry child.  
“Just sit down and let me take care of you,” Samantha said and began to wipe the blood from her face.

“Not the context I’d hoped to hear you say that, but I’ll take it,” the clone smirked, and Samantha scoffed. Evidently there were some things that ran in the DNA. Headbutting krogans, joking about her own health especially when it was poor, and being a shameless flirt.

“Admit it, you totally wanna make out with me right now,” Nemo stated confidently, and Samantha chuckled, shaking her head.  
“Not in the least.”

“But why not, I’m just the same.”  
“You might be the same as Shepard as far as DNA goes, but you’re two very different people. The sooner you get over it and focus on figuring out who you are, the better for you,” Samantha said, finished wiping off the blood from Nemo’s face.

“Good as new,” she said.  
“Hah, yeah, that’s me.”

“Now, do you wanna talk about it or would you rather keep drinking and sulking?” Samantha asked and Nemo frowned at her.  
“What do you care?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ve grown to think of you as Jane’s infuriating sister and therefore, you’re like family,” Samantha shrugged.

Technically, publicly and on paper, she _was_ Shepard’s long lost twin, an easy enough tale to fabricate thanks to Shepard’s past as an orphan on Earth, and thanks to personally knowing the Shadow Broker who could slip and spread the rumor effortlessly, and just like that, everyone was convinced the two had been separated at birth (or at some part of their difficult childhood) and had more or less forgotten about each other until Shepard had become a household name and Nemo had decided to look her up after realizing who she was.

 “Well, imagine living knowing you exist only because someone felt like they might need spare parts they could just harvest from you for their little science project,” Nemo said and took a sip from the bottle she still held onto.

Samantha paused for a while when she realized it had never even occurred to her, she’d never thought of it that way.

“She should’ve let me die. Sometimes I’m convinced she let me live because she knew I’d feel this way and she wanted me to suffer.”  
“Seriously, Nemo?” Shepard’s voice inquired from across the room. She’d been visiting Dr. Chakwas when she’d seen Samantha and Nemo through the window in the med bay and decided to intervene.

“What?”

“You’re making me sound like some kind of a monster when in reality I saved your life because I thought you might want to make something of it. Instead, you’re here talking shit about me and whining about how your life sucks when you’ve not even lifted a finger to try and do anything about it.”

“Oh, you are such a bitch.”  
“Kiss my sweet ass, it’s not my responsibility to make you happy, it’s your own.”

“Uh… guys… can we just… calm down?” Samantha tried to broker peace, as she always found herself having to do with these two, but it was useless. They were both as stubborn as each other.

“Quit being a wussy and make something of yourself, or don’t, but I am done accepting blame for what you’ve been through. I didn’t cause any of it, I merely gave you a chance to make something more of yourself, and if you want to waste it, that’s your own personal problem, quit trying to make it mine or anyone else’s.”

“Shepard…”  
“Just go, both of you, I want to be alone,” Nemo scoffed, rolling her eyes and Samantha got up.

“Don’t you think you were being a bit too harsh?” she asked Shepard as they walked side by side toward the elevator.  
“No, because coddling her won’t make any difference, you can’t just hug her until she feels better, you need to use force. It’s called tough love,” Shepard dismissed and got into the elevator, Samantha following behind her.

“I guess you’re right…”  
“Of course I am. Besides… I was kind of pissed off at her for flirting with you,” Shepard grinned as they got out at the commander’s personal quarters.

“Really? I didn’t think you were the type who gets jealous,” Samantha teased, and Shepard smiled, reaching to put her arm around Samantha’s waist and pulled her to herself tightly.  
“Only when Nemo flirts with you because evidently, she’s your type,” she said, shrugging one shoulder innocently.

“You would think that, but she really isn’t,” Samantha shook her head. “Are you okay though? Or were you visiting Dr. Chakwas just to have a chat?” she then inquired.  
“Ah, well, a little, but I actually went in to ask about healing these scars,” Shepard said and ran her index finger along the branching trail of scar tissue over her jawline.

“What? But… I like your scars,” Samantha said, sounding genuinely upset about the possibility of Shepard’s scars disappearing one day.  
“You… you do?”

“Yes, plus if you’ve had a bad day, I can use you as a night light because you glow in the dark,” Samantha jested, and Shepard scoffed amusedly.  
“I’ll try to take that as a compliment,” she commented dryly and Samantha offered a smile before hugging Shepard and nuzzling into the spot between her neck and shoulder.

It wasn’t just her scars Samantha loved and had mapped out and memorized. It was the way the veins in her forearms roped up, continuing up over he bicep and slowly disappearing into her shoulder. It was the contours of her muscles when they flexed. It was the number of freckles on her face, it was that particular shade of green of her eyes.

When simply glancing over quickly, sure, Nemo didn’t seem to be that different, but she was, very much so, all the little details were different. The only reason Samantha could think of for that was the fact that Nemo was cloned from Shepard’s DNA while the Shepard Samantha had grown to know and love had been rebuilt practically from scratch.

All the details Samantha was so familiar with were the creation of Miranda Lawson and her team. In a sense, Nemo was closer to the original commander than Shepard herself was at this point. At least physically. Samantha couldn’t really comment on the personality, she hadn’t known Shepard that long.

“What’s wrong?” Shepard asked when she realized Samantha seemed to be a million miles away.  
“Nothing, I was just thinking about Nemo.”

“And you still think I was too harsh on her.”  
“Well, maybe just a little,” Samantha shrugged one shoulder as she slowly pulled away from the hug and Shepard sighed deeply.

“Listen, Sam…” she began and put her hands on Samantha’s shoulders, “Nemo is my clone, not our teenaged daughter so we really don’t need to argue over our different ideas on how to raise her, and you have got to stop coddling her, the bitch tried to kill me, for goodness sakes.”

“I know, I know, and you’re not wrong, but at the same time, it’s difficult for me to just ignore the fact that she’s obviously hurting and going through some identity crisis, she basically _is_ like a teenager, as far as emotional maturity goes anyway,” Samantha argued softly and folded her arms over her abdomen, her stance somewhat defiant, her silent way of making it clear she wasn’t about to just agree with Shepard.

“Yeah, but she’s _not_ our kid, she’s not even an actual relative, she’s…!” Shepard began in exasperation, but didn’t know how to finish. She didn’t have a word for what Nemo was. Samantha found a couple she’d borrowed from Nemo for her.  
“She’s spare parts?” she suggested, and Shepard exhaled deeply, hanging her head low. Apparently, she wouldn’t be winning this.

“Well, technically, yes, that was the intended purpose of her existence, but I didn’t say that, and I didn’t give her that purpose. What _I_ gave her was a chance to define her own path. And now you’re acting like it’s _my_ fault she’s miserable? How is it my fault?” Shepard frowned.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, I’m saying that you shouldn’t be so hard on her and try showing a little bit support. Sure, you may have given her a chance, but that won’t do anything unless she knows what to do with it, and clearly, she doesn’t know, but instead of trying to help her, you tell her to get over it. How is that helping?” Samantha reasoned, and Shepard raised her hands to the sides, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head in a silent “I don’t know what you want from me”-gesture.

“This has to be one of the most ridiculous arguments we’ve ever had,” she said instead, and Samantha exhaled slowly, unfolding her arms.

“You’re not wrong about that, but at the same time, I do feel this is an argument we needed to have.”  
“All right, you know what? If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go have a pep-talk with Nemo, and then you can stop babying her like she’s some helpless little kid.”

“She is a helpless kid.”  
“You _are_ joking, right?”

“Think about it. All her bravado and anger… she wouldn’t have even known who she was supposed to be if it weren’t for Maya Brooks. She was the one who was putting ideas in Nemo’s head all the way from the start, and when the chips were down, Brooks abandoned her.”

“I think the fact that I shot Brooks had something to do with that too,” Shepard pursed her lips in fake-innocence, and Samantha scoffed.

“Be that as it may, my point is that Nemo was trying to be the Shepard Brooks told her she should be, because she didn’t know any better, and how could she have known? Either teach her to be like you or convince her that she doesn’t have to be like you despite what’s in her DNA. That’s all she needs, I think.”

“While I admit you’re probably right, I still think this is stupid, I’m not her mother,” Shepard muttered and stepped out into the space between her quarters and the elevator.  
“Consider this practice, you’re going to have a teenaged version of yourself to deal with at some point,” Samantha smirked.

“I’m thinking we should just go ahead and get you pregnant so that you won’t have to keep busying yourself with Nemo and projecting your maternal feelings to her,” Shepard poked her tongue out cheekily.  
“Don’t blame me, you’re the one who keeps putting it off,” Samantha reminded her.

“Yes, because I would like to bring a child into a world that’s already rebuilt rather than raise her in a series of temporary houses…”  
“Oh, please, by the time everything has been rebuilt to how it was, we’ll be too old to have children, and you know it; you’re just stalling because you’re scared of the responsibility,” Samantha said, and Shepard guffawed in disbelief.

“Hey, am I or am I not the savior of the galaxy? I’m kind of used to being responsible for big things,” she said confidently.

“Yes, yes, but a galaxy is nothing compared to a child, and you’re terrified of being a bad parent because you know that the way you influence your child will affect their future in one way or another and you can’t win that battle by pooling resources and allies,” Samantha said, and Shepard scoffed amusedly.

“Why do you always have an answer that actually makes sense?”  
“Because I know you, Shepard. I know the way you think, and therefore I know how to reason with you.”

“You mispronounced ‘manipulate’,” Shepard smirked.  
“Nobody said that,” Samantha remarked innocently, “Now get going, we’ll talk more about this after you’ve dealt with your so-called twin.”

“Frankly, I’d rather stay here and discuss having children with you, maybe do a little practicing too while we’re at it…” Shepard trailed off.  
“We can do that afterward too,” Samantha smiled, her eyebrow quirked.

“I’ll hold you to that,” the commander smiled back and finally got into the elevator.

As was to be expected, Nemo hadn’t moved from her spot, only she wasn’t sitting at the table at this point, she was slumped over it, evidently on the verge of passing out.

“Wake up, Nemo. The Geth Consesus has you,” Shepard said ominously and took a seat across from her.  
“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” Nemo muttered against the table and Shepard sighed.

“Why do you have to be such an asshole?”  
“I guess it runs in the DNA,” Nemo responded dryly, straightened up a little and took a swig from the bottle before slumping back on the table.

“I refuse to believe I was ever that big of a jerk,” Shepard scoffed and leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other.  
“What do you want?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing. If you’re so unhappy here, why did you come aboard? You don’t have to be here, you know.”  
“Got nowhere else to go,” Nemo shrugged, and Shepard sighed.

“But you do realize that you _can_ go if you want to? You don’t have to be just ‘the Shepard-clone’, you’re an individual and you’re not completely talentless, you could do anything you want to.”

“My, my, Commander Shepard, that is beginning to sound like a pep-talk. Did Traynor blackmail you into talking to me?” Nemo chuckled ruefully and finally sat up properly. Shepard grabbed the bottle from her and took a swig herself, figuring that if she was going to have to do this, she would need to get at least tipsy to power through it.

“Believe it or not, she didn’t need to blackmail me, she just made some valid points about why you’re such an asshole,” Shepard smirked.

“Okay, honestly? I don’t know what I want or what to do with myself. I was supposed to be you, and evidently, I am not. You know,” Nemo began and reached to take the bottle back from Shepard, “sometimes some of the crew will approach me and start talking to me, and the moment they realize they’re talking to the wrong Shepard, they just sort of back away slowly,” she finished after drinking from the bottle.

“Don’t tell me it _hewts_ your _feewings_.”  
“Oh, piss off, Shepard! Of course it hurts. How could you think it wouldn’t? Unless of course, it’s the obvious reason of you never having thought of me as a person, in which case… again, fuck you.”

“All right, honestly and seriously? I really don’t know how to deal with you,” Shepard said and moved to lean her forearms to the table.  
“Evidently, neither does anyone else.”

“Look, we can keep on this constant bickering we’ve been doing for the past couple of years, or we can stop this stupid rivalry and start behaving like the sisters we’re supposed to be.”  
“Sibling rivalry excluded, I presume?” Nemo smirked, and Shepard chuckled.

“Obviously. And yes, I know, it’s not going to be a matter of us simply deciding to be best friends forever or we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place, but it’s a start. And instead of wasting time fighting over stupid things with me, you’re gonna figure out what you want to do, and I’m gonna help you, all right?”

“Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to try.”  
“Exactly,” Shepard agreed, and once more snatched the bottle from Nemo.

“Hey, remember that time I tried to steal the Normandy?”  
“Too soon, Nemo,” Shepard laughed.

“Wait, it gets better. Remember how I kicked Traynor off the ship for conduct unbecoming of an officer?”  
“Vividly, she was more than just a little pissed off about that, and I had to be on the receiving end of her wrath.”

“Yeah, but did she ever tell you what that conduct unbecoming was?” Nemo grinned, and Shepard frowned.  
“What are you talking about?”

“Well, she had to have done something to deserve it, right?” Nemo shrugged one shoulder, a grin still on her lips, obviously enjoying the chance to taunt Shepard. There weren’t many things that got to her at this point, but anything regarding her precious Traynor was a sure way to get under her skin.

“Oh, wipe that smug grin off your face.”  
“I guess she never got around to telling you about the sweet moment we had the bridge all to ourselves and she decided to seize the opportunity to squeeze my ass and make a joke about liking something solid in her hand… which I’m assuming was a reference to something between the two of you,” Nemo trailed off, her voice thick with fake-innocence.

“Yeah, well, it was a long time ago, and she obviously thought you were me, so nice try, but no cigar,” Shepard smirked.

“Worth a shot,” Nemo shrugged and got up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go to bed. I’ve got a big day ahead of me tomorrow, I’ll be finding an identity and stuff, right? I might have to change my name from nobody to somebody. What’s the Latin opposite of Nemo?” she pondered out loud, and EDI took it upon herself to inform her that the word “aliquis” might be what she was looking for.

“Awesome, then you can call me Al,” Nemo then laughed heartily as she headed toward the crew’s quarters to sleep it off.

“What an infuriating brat,” Shepard mumbled to herself as she watched the clone go and finally got up herself and headed back to her quarters.

When she got there, she could hear water running in the bathroom, and decided to relive a lovely moment from the past; only this time, she took the time to undress first.

“Barge right in, why don’t you,” Samantha quirked an eyebrow when Shepard walked in the shower.  
“You weren’t complaining the last time,” she smiled and reached for the bottle of shower gel, pouring a generous amount of it into the cup of her hand.

“No, but that was because you were practically invited, now I was enjoying myself some me-time,” Samantha grinned over her shoulder as Shepard moved to stand behind her and slowly began to spread the gel across Samantha’s shoulders, down along her arms and all the way to the fingertips before bringing her hands back up and pausing to softly knead the muscles between Samantha’s neck and shoulders.

“Well, I mean, I can leave if you insist,” Shepard said, her smile audible in her voice as her hands explored further down Samantha’s back in a long gentle stroke, finally stopping at her hips and sliding over to the front, her fingertip finding its way to circle Samantha’s navel slowly.

“If you tickle me, I will insist, but for now, I might prefer it if you stayed,” she exhaled and tilted her head to the side, offering her neck to Shepard who happily accepted the invitation.

“Oh, I’ll behave,” the commander promised, her arms wrapping tightly around Samantha who groaned at the feel of Shepard’s chest pressed against her shoulder blades, and her lips leaving behind a trail of kisses to the side of her neck before closing around her earlobe.

Samantha put her hands over Shepard’s forearms and ran her fingers along the familiar path of her veins, closing her eyes and smiling as she felt the comforting safety of Shepard’s warmth pressed against herself. She turned around in Shepard’s arms and put her own over Shepard’s shoulders.

“I love you, Sam,” the commander smiled and leaned to kiss her softly. Samantha mumbled a quiet response into the kiss, bringing her hand over the back of Shepard’s neck and tugged on her gently.

“As much fun as I know this can be, I do think we would be more comfortable on the bed,” she said after breaking the kiss slowly.  
“As usual, you’re right. Dry off and meet you there?” Shepard grinned.

“It’s a date.”

 ***

 

 


	4. But moooooom!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to prompt "I think the cat got to her."

“I’ve never seen anyone break out in hives that quickly,” Hannah Shepard remarked as she watched Samantha Traynor excuse herself and hurry to the bathroom with a bottle of medicine.

“Yeah, I think the cat got to her,” Shepard muttered, having obviously forgotten about Samantha’s allergy to cats until just now when Hannah’s oversized Maine Coon named Shadow came into the room and promptly jumped to sit on Samantha’s chair after having circled the woman’s feet for a while now.

Shepard followed Samantha, paused to stand behind the bathroom door and knocked on it softly.

“Sam? I’m sorry.”  
“It’s okay,” Samantha replied in between sneezes, “I just… need a moment while I wait for the medicine to kick in.”

“Take your time.”

“This really is quite embarrassing,” Samantha then said. Meeting Shepard’s mother for the first time had been nerve wracking enough as it was, she didn’t expect she’d ever live down the moment she’d began sneezing so violently she’d literally fallen off her chair in the middle of dinner.

“You have no reason to be embarrassed, it’s not like you had any control over it. Besides, I’m the one who should be embarrassed, I should’ve remembered you’re allergic.”  
“You’re right, after all the time we’ve been together, you really should’ve remembered.”

“They don’t call me ‘Scatterbrain-Jane’ for nothing.”  
“Nobody calls you that.”

“I do when I forget important things,” Shepard chuckled.  
“How convenient for you,” Samantha smirked after finally emerging from the bathroom, still sniffling and wiping her nose with a tissue.

“Do you want to go home?”  
“Wait a minute…” Samantha narrowed her eyes when something dawned on her.

“What?” Shepard quirked an eyebrow.  
“You did this on purpose.”

“Well, I never!” Shepard exclaimed, her bad acting only making it more obvious that she was lying.  
“The cat was locked in the bedroom, your mother said so, so if she knew I was allergic, you must’ve told her, which means you didn’t forget! You let the cat out when your mother said she’d show me embarrassing baby pictures of you.”

“As if I would intentionally endanger your health just to keep you from seeing a few cringe-worthy childhood photos…”  
“Shepard…!”

“All right, all right! You win, that’s exactly what happened.”

“Jane Elliot Shepard! How could you!” Hannah’s voice came from behind her and Samantha could swear she saw Shepard shrink a little when her mother called her by her full name.  
“No, how could _you_ even imply embarrassing me in front of Samantha by showing horrible baby pictures! I panicked!”

“Oh, just for that I’m going to give Samantha a copy of the picture I have of you drawing on the wall with your own poop,” Hannah narrowed her eyes at Shepard.  
“Yeah, that just serves as a reminder of your great parenting, ma; while I was busy making a mess, all you did was take pictures,” Shepard countered with a smirk.

“Your father’s the one who took the pictures, not me. And let me tell you, he took a _lot_ of pictures, when you were a toddler, you were constantly doing things like sticking peas up your nostrils or sitting on John and forcing him to eat grass.”

“What?” Samantha and Shepard exclaimed in unison at that. Shepard had no recollection of doing such a thing to her twin brother, but evidently Hannah had photographic proof of such an incident.

“Oh, yes, and then there was that goth-phase you went through… so much eyeliner,” Hannah mumbled, the expression on her face like she was having a flashback to a traumatic event. Shepard couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt herself blush quite like this, the heat of embarrassment burning up her entire face.

“Mom, please stop while Sam still thinks I’m cool.”  
“Too late,” Samantha commented.

“See, I don’t even need photos to embarrass you, and I bet the mental images I’ve just conjured are far worse than the actual pictures. Serves you right for letting the cat out.”  
“I said I was sorry,” Shepard pouted.

Unfortunately for Shepard, a simple sorry wasn’t enough and for the rest of the evening, she was forced to sit through hundreds of embarrassing photos and even some vids in which she was doing things like dancing naked on a table, mercilessly bullying her brother for no apparent reasons, and of course entire wardrobes worth of awkward outfits which nowadays made her wonder how had anyone in their right mind ever thought they looked good on anyone.

Shepard was still pouting when she and Samantha finally said good night to Hannah and began heading home. Samantha linked her arm with Shepard’s and pressed herself against the pouty commander’s side as they walked.

“Don’t be so grumpy, they’re just awkward childhood pictures, everyone has those,” Samantha comforted, and Shepard smiled a little.  
“Remind me to ask your parents to show me yours.”

“That seems only fair,” Samantha chuckled, “And don’t worry, Shepard. I still think you’re cool.”

***


	5. New Year's kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to “You’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?” for Liara/FemShep.

Despite all the time Shepard had spent with aliens and immersing herself with other cultures, she hadn’t stopped to even think that the most common customs and holidays she was used to were an anomaly to others.

“You’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?” she inquired from Liara, who blinked at her slowly as she tried to understand why that mattered. She had done some research regarding humans and their customs, but those had never been a priority; she’d been rather busy with everything else recently.

“I did not realize it was important,” she responded.

“It definitely is, it sets the tone for the entire next year. If a couple doesn’t kiss, it’s bad luck for the relationship. Not to mention the unfortunate single people who don’t have anyone to kiss, they’re pretty much doomed to spend the next year alone,” Shepard sighed, shaking her head a little.

“Honestly, Shepard, don’t you think that’s just silly superstition?” Liara chuckled quietly. She’d never before seen anything that would’ve implied that Shepard would be the superstitious type.  
“Maybe it is, but why risk it?” Shepard smiled and shrugged a little.

“Oh, yes, you’re known for not taking unnecessary risks,” Liara smirked sarcastically.  
“When talking about my relationship with you, I do not take unnecessary risks,” Shepard pointed out.

“Well, then, lucky me,” Liara said and slipped her arms over Shepard’s shoulders as the commander wrapped hers around Liara’s waist.  
“Want to practice? We still have about half an hour until midnight.”

“Practice kissing? Are you saying I need the practice?” Liara teased.  
“No, but maybe I do,” Shepard grinned, “and even if I didn’t, surely, a few practice rounds can’t hurt, especially when we’re talking about such an important kiss as this one.”

In all honesty, Liara didn’t mind the practice at all. She didn’t like admitting as much, but there were times when she found herself feeling insecure about something like this. She knew it was silly.

Shepard was the only one Liara had ever even kissed while she knew Shepard had had relationships before; Liara couldn’t really know if she was a good kisser or not. Shepard had never complained, but of course, she wouldn’t, she was polite enough to not do that.

Liara let her fingers sink into Shepard’s hair as she commander leaned closer and pressed herself against Liara, her hands traveling up along her back in a long gentle stroke. Shepard pressed her lips onto Liara’s, the touch not much more than a soft peck at first until Liara responded to the kiss, interlocking their lips.

Liara could’ve stayed there like that forever, her mouth against Shepard’s, their breathing in sync with each other, their bodies pressed together.

“Shepard…” she mumbled into the kiss, reluctantly and slowly breaking it.  
“Yes, my love?” Shepard smiled as she pulled back.

“Am I a good kisser?”  
“Why are you asking that?” Shepard chuckled softly.

“Because I’m curious.”  
“You are an excellent kisser,” Shepard smiled.

“Well… I did have an excellent teacher,” Liara mused.  
“I hope you’re talking about me.”

“Of course I am, you know you’re the only one.”  
“In my defense, I was dead for a while there, you could’ve gone around kissing krogans for all I know,” Shepard teased and Liara scoffed in disbelief.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than you dying to get me to kiss a krogan,” she teased back, but grew more serious when she noticed how Shepard’s mood seemed to have shifted.

“What’s wrong?” Liara asked quietly.  
“You know I like to think that I’m practically immortal, and with all the Cerberus-tech in me, who knows, maybe I will live longer the average human, but… if not, then at best I’ve got about a hundred or so more years left.”

“Shepard… I don’t want to think about it.”  
“Neither do I, but it’s… something I can’t just ignore despite my best efforts. And I want you to know that when I’m gone… I really want you to find someone who will be there for you.”

“Jane, stop!” Liara exclaimed, resorting to using her first name which she rarely did unless she was angry or frustrated.

“I’m sorry. It’s not a pleasant conversation to have.”  
“No, it is not. And I do not intend to have it at all unless I must.”

“But, Liara…” Shepard began and Liara silenced her with a slow, soft kiss.  
“You are an exceptional human in many ways, Shepard… yet, you think about time just like any other human,” Liara said quietly, letting her hands slide along Shepard’s arms and down to gently grip her hands.

“You waste your time worrying about its inevitable end rather than enjoy it and relish the moments you experience. You obsess over the future and for what? Constantly worrying won’t change anything, it just ruins the time you have now.”

Shepard swallowed hard and smiled ruefully. She wished she could’ve denied it, but Liara was right.

“I know from past experience that losing you will hurt more than anything I could ever imagine…” Liara said, her eyes cast down. She inhaled deeply and shook her head a little.  
“…but I won’t win anything by wasting our time together now by worrying about the future. You shouldn’t waste it either,” she said.

“I’m sorry, Liara. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. And I didn’t mean to sound so… depressing. It’s just something I’ve had to think about, and… I do worry about what comes after I’m gone.”  
“Possibly a krogan,” Liara quirked an eyebrow and Shepard burst out into soft laughter.

“Just as long as the krogan is a good-looking honorable warrior, I can live with that,” the commander pursed her lips and Liara chuckled.  
“Are you quite finished being a downer and silly? It’s getting close to midnight.”

“Yes and yes. And Liara…”  
“Yes, Shepard?”

“It makes me happier than I can say to know that I will spend the rest of my life with you… however long that might be. I mean, if you’ll have me, of course,” the commander shrugged one shoulder in fake-nonchalance, and Liara smiled.  
“I will. Unless a strikingly handsome krogan comes along…”

“All right, all right, I’m sorry I joked about you kissing krogans,” Shepard held up her hands in a surrender.

Liara put her palm against Shepard’s and interlocked her fingers with hers, once more pressing herself against Shepard and nuzzling the side of her neck, her left arm wrapped around Shepard’s midsection as the other hand still held onto Shepard’s.

“Happy New Year, my love,” Shepard whispered when the first fireworks began to go off in the distance, coloring the sky brightly, spreading across the horizon.  
“Happy New Year, commander,” Liara responded with a smile and kissed her sweetly.

***


	6. Scatterbrain-Jane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to the prompt "We're kind of tangled in lights".

Shepard stopped in her tracks at the bedroom door when she noticed the colorful Christmas lights spread on the bed, Samantha stretching another set over the headboard and reaching to plug it in.

“What… are you doing?” Shepard frowned. “You do know Christmas was weeks ago, don’t you?”  
“Of course I know, give me some credit,” Samantha scoffed and sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, arranging the lights over her thighs and around her hips.

“Then what is this?” Shepard chuckled and moved to the bed when Samantha held out her hand and gave the “come hither”-gesture.  
“A test run,” Samantha answered and began to drape the lights over Shepard as well.

“For what?” the commander quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, you know, in almost every photo I’ve seen, the setting is always the same; either the pregnant woman stands in front of their partner who reaches from behind to hold their hands on the babybump too, like so,” Samantha explained, held her hands on her belly and faked a cheesy smile, making Shepard burst into laughter.

“The other alternative is that the partner is kneeling down and kissing the pregnant woman’s belly, how original and unique,” Samantha then rolled her eyes.  
“Hey, I like those pictures,” Shepard pouted.

“They’re a cliché and I refuse to be one too.”  
“Sometimes clichés are clichés because of good reasons, like that they have been proven to work,” Shepard argued, and Samantha exhaled sharply.

“Like I said, I refuse to be one.”  
“So, your solution is Christmas lights?”

“I’m just trying this idea around, obviously I’d have something more… professional for the actual photoshoot,” Samantha dismissed and adjusted the lights around a little more before setting the timer from her omni-tool and sitting still while waiting for the picture to be taken.

“What photoshoot?” Shepard frowned and Samantha sighed just as the shutter clicked.  
“The one I’ve been talking to you about for the past three weeks because I wanted to get some proper pictures taken before the baby’s born since we haven’t had the time to do it and it’s gonna be too late soon.”

“Oh, yeah, of course I remember,” Shepard said.  
“No, you don’t.”

“…no, I don’t,” Shepard admitted sheepishly and leaned back to rest her weight on her arms as Samantha kept adjusting the lights and tangling Shepard into them too.

“Sometimes I can’t tell if it’s just that you don’t listen or just that you genuinely forget. The latter possibility worries me more,” Samantha mumbled.

“I personally am more worried because it’s the former and I just don’t listen,” Shepard tried shrugging it off with a bad joke, but they both knew it wasn’t true. Shepard was an excellent listener, much better at that than she was at talking about her own problems.

She’d listened, but she genuinely just couldn’t retain the information.

“Shepard, do you remember my toothbrush?”  
“Yeah, a Promark rebound five-B active grip.”

“…what?” Samantha frowned, the expression on her face changing between concerned and annoyed because she couldn’t figure out was this just Shepard’s idea of a joke or if she was serious.  
“What? What did I say?” Shepard asked in a mutter and Samantha repeated her words, which had made no sense.

“Oh, those… those are drumsticks, but I haven’t played the drums since I was like… sixteen,” Shepard chuckled a little, glad she’d found an explanation to how she knew those words, but uncomfortable when she realized she had no idea what had gotten so badly wired wrong in her brain that she’d said that instead of “Cision Pro mark 4”. Granted, they had similarities, but still. She should’ve gotten this right.

“I should… go…”  
“You can’t.”

“First you question my memory and now my ability to go?” Shepard smirked and Samantha chuckled, gesturing around them.  
“We’re kind of tangled in lights,” she said and slowly began to undo said tangles, and once she was done, they both got out of bed.

“Just so you know, I definitely want some of those cliché photos taken of us too. In fact, I think I’m gonna do a few practice runs as well,” Shepard then said and got down on one knee, leaned forward and planted a series of tiny kisses onto Samantha’s belly.  
“You can be such a ridiculous woman sometimes,” she smiled and ran her fingers through Shepard’s hair gently.

“Imagine how ridiculous I’ll get if my memory goes completely,” Shepard smirked and stood up, but Samantha wasn’t amused.

It had taken Shepard a long time to recover after the final assault, and even though she had been cleared physically and mentally, it was impossible to say what kind of damage there lay dormant. Her implants could’ve sustained some damage which just wasn’t detectable, or similarly, there could be something going on in her brain, but no one knew about it because they didn’t know what to look for exactly.

People hadn’t always known what Alzheimer’s disease was, once there’d been that one person who was the first to get it and no one had any idea what was wrong with them because based on everything they knew, everything was supposed to be just fine.

For all they knew now, Shepard could be dying of something that just didn’t have a name yet.

“Samantha…” Shepard began quietly when she noticed the other woman’s mood shift rather dramatically. “I’m fine. I’ve been reduced to being nothing but meat and tubes twice now, I’ve been shot at, stabbed, beaten, I’ve drowned, I’ve fallen from ridiculous heights… and the list goes on. It would be weirder if there wasn’t something a little off in my brain, and doctor Chakwas said that it will take well over a year for me to fully recover, and it has barely been a year as we speak, right? I’ll be fine,” she reasoned gently.

“I want to believe that.”  
“And you should, I mean… come on, as if I’d come this far only to lose what’s left of my mind,” Shepard smirked confidently and put her arm around Samantha’s waist as they headed into the living room.

“Well, you have a point, you’ve survived against all odds out of sheer stubbornness. That’s also why I’ll just give in right now and give an okay to those cliché photos you insisted on,” Samantha smirked and Shepard frowned at her.

“What photos?”  
“You… don’t remember?”

“Of course I do, I’m just teasing you,” Shepard snickered mischievously and raised her arms to shield herself from the angry staccato of slaps Samantha threw at her.  
“Don’t do that!” she humphed angrily and finished her assault by punching Shepard’s shoulder. That one actually hurt a little.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you,” Shepard promised, took Samantha’s hands into her own and held them tightly, leaning to tenderly nuzzle Samantha’s cheek before kissing it.  
“You’ll make it up to me and the baby, she gets upset when I get upset,” Samantha pointed out.

“Fair enough, what are your demands?” Shepard chuckled.

“The baby wants you to get us chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and I want you to give me a foot massage while I’m eating the ice cream.”  
“I’d better go out and buy some ice cream then, huh?” Shepard smiled as Samantha settled to lay on the couch, making it obvious she had no intention of moving from that spot for a while.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Unless I forget where we live, then you might have to wait longer,” Shepard called out at the door, and Samantha threw a decorative pillow at her.

 ***


	7. Sore loser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to "drabble based on which of the OTP takes Uno way too seriously for Shaynor"

“That…is… it!” Shepard yelled, and literally flipped the table over, the cards fluttering all over the place and the glasses set on the table breaking as they hit the floor.  
“Whoa, what the hell?” James exclaimed as he, Garrus, Joker and Ashley all stood up and took a few steps back to avoid getting hit by the table.

“I didn’t go through the hell I did just to be betrayed by my friends like this,” Shepard growled and stepped over the table, the broken glass crunching underneath her boots as she went.  
“Shepard, it’s just a game…” Joker mumbled, and the redhead turned to him, pointing her finger at his face.

“No! No, you know what this is? A blatant display of disloyal behavior from my crew!” she spat furiously and grabbed a bottle from the bar before exiting the lounge and going to the mess hall to sulk.  
“Oh, good Lord,” Ashley said under her breath, desperately trying to stifle the laughter bubbling inside her, her face turning a dark shade of red. James noticed this and soon enough, he too was having trouble keeping his poker face.

Garrus just looked confused. He hadn’t really wanted to play the game in the first place, but Joker had made it sound like it could be fun. Either he’d chosen not to tell him about the possible consequences of the game ending in a disaster like this, or then Shepard was over reacting. Quite frankly, this wasn’t the kind of behavior he was used to seeing from Shepard, so he was willing to blame this one on Joker.

“Uh, Traynor, you might want to pick up your worse half and put her to bed,” Joker called the specialist after Shepard’s abrupt departure.  
“What just happened?” Garrus finally asked.

“I think we just found out why people have been calling this game the destroyer of friendships since 1971,” James shrugged one shoulder as he knelt to pick up the Uno-cards.  
“Well, I guess we should’ve known that Shepard would be a sore loser, I mean, obviously she’s not used to it,” Ashley chuckled and went to help James tidy up.

“Let’s go grab a drink and I’ll explain it all to you,” Joker offered, patting Garrus’s shoulder and went to the bar.

* * *

_Oh, Jesus, not again,_ Samantha sighed internally when she received Joker’s call. She couldn’t believe they _still_ hadn’t learned that they shouldn’t play Uno with Shepard unless they let her win. She was relatively certain Joker had beaten Shepard in the game just for shits and giggles, because he knew this would happen. He was good guy, but sometimes his inability to resist getting a rise out of Shepard was inconvenient.

Samantha had to admit she could see why he’d be tempted; Shepard’s reaction to losing was so over the top and unlike her that it was easy to see why it would be amusing to witness.

“Stupid game. I have no friends,” Shepard muttered to herself and downed a shot of bourbon, immediately refilling the glass after. Samantha sighed and went over to her, quietly taking a seat. She contemplated her options.

She could tell Shepard that it was just a silly game which in no way reflected on how her friends actually felt about her; them giving her a hard time and playing well wasn’t a sign of betrayal or some conspiracy against her. She could also tell Shepard not to play the game in the future since it upset her this much, but that would be pointless too, because when she was winning, the game wasn’t stupid at all. She could point out how ridiculous Shepard was being, and that she probably shouldn’t drink while playing the game since getting intoxicated seemed to bring out the sore loser in her.

She had a dozen of perfectly reasonable and logical arguments she could’ve made, but she knew better than to make any of them. Shepard was not in the mood to be reasoned with, she would rather be coddled and told everyone’s stupid except her. Frankly, as much as Samantha did wonder who had hurt Shepard and how to make this such a touchy subject for her, she did find the ridiculous childish streak oddly endearing.

“Bad night?” she asked and reached to tuck an errant lock of Shepard’s auburn hair behind her ear.  
“It wasn’t until about ten minutes ago,” Shepard answered, bitterly recalling the exact moment when Joker had told her to draw four and effectively ruined her win in a second.

“Want to go to your quarters and dress Mister Janeway in his tiny tuxedo?” Samantha asked, knowing that the mere mental image of the space hamster all dressed up would be enough to amuse Shepard. It worked.  
“Nah, it’s okay,” Shepard then said and leaned to rest her head on Samantha’s shoulder.

“All right,” she nodded and put her arm around Shepard’s waist. “But, I have to ask… why do you get so agitated over this?”  
“Do you enjoy losing?” Shepard countered, and Samantha chuckled softly.

“No, of course not, but I’ve never seen you get so mad over losing any other game. You’ve never thrown the chessboard to a wall after losing to me,” she pointed out.  
“Yeah, but that’s different. If I lose at chess, it’s because I genuinely made bad moves, losing at Uno happens because people deliberately force it on me.”

“Well, that’s what games of chance are like…” Samantha tried reasoning.  
“It just hurts when people that are supposed to be my friends gang up on me like that.”

“Darling, it’s not a conspiracy against you, it’s just how the game works, and you can’t win all the time no matter how well you play.”  
“I can’t win at all because people really do gang up on me, it _is_ a conspiracy.”

“Have you considered that they do that because you get so easily upset over it and they find it funny?”  
“Whose side are you on?” Shepard grumbled.

“Yours, which is why I’m trying to understand this,” Samantha smiled and kissed Shepard’s temple.

“Is this the part where I tell you it’s because when I was a kid, the other kids would invite me to come play with them only to have someone to humiliate during the game, because I didn’t know the rules of any of their games and they didn’t explain them, and then I was not only the loser, but also an idiot?” Shepard said sardonically, and Samantha’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the words.

“Apparently it is,” she commented. Shepard could pretend it didn’t hurt, but as tough as she was and no matter how much she’d accomplished, somewhere deep inside she was still the abandoned little girl who wondered why no one had wanted her. Not her parents, not the other kids she’d tried befriending.

_No wonder your parents dumped you here to die, I wouldn’t want a kid as stupid as you either,_ was one of the most worn out sentences she’d gotten to hear. Children could be the cruelest of all beings. The thing about being told something repeatedly was that eventually, one started to believe it whether it was true or not.

Shepard couldn’t say if it was, she didn’t have an answer to why her parents had left her. Maybe they really hadn’t wanted her. Maybe they’d gotten killed or something else had happened, leaving them no choice in the matter. No matter what the scenario, the result was the same; she was alone and abandoned.

Over time, she’d developed a thick skin and toughened up, deciding she’d rather keep on living against all odds and quit contemplating on giving up just to spite the ones who had told her she shouldn’t bother because she’d never amount to anything. Once a street rat, always a street rat.

“But you know what they say, it’s the rats and cockroaches who survive the end of the world, so I showed them,” Shepard snickered and poured herself another shot.  
“I’m sure they all regret their words now.”

“If they’re alive. Am I terrible person for wishing that they weren’t, but that before dying they were made aware of just who was fighting to save everyone? Hypothetically speaking,” she muttered, and Samantha exhaled deeply. She would’ve wanted to say that indeed, it was a terrible and a petty thing to wish for, but had to admit that if she were in Shepard’s shoes right now… she might be wishing for the same thing.

“I think you’re just human,” Samantha said diplomatically, and Shepard chuckled. She was drunk, but not too drunk to realize when her question was answered with words that didn’t really provide an answer.  
“A human shaped by her past experiences and the end result is a woman who loses her shit over a game of Uno,” Shepard said, raised her glass a little as if to make a toast and downed the liquid in a single swallow.

“The same woman also saved the entire galaxy despite everyone doubting her and telling her to quit rambling about it,” Samantha said, turned a little and cupped Shepard’s face with her hand. “The same woman also happens to be my everything, because I love her,” she added quietly and leaned to kiss Shepard softly.

“Mmm, tell me again why _do_ you love me?” she hummed into the kiss, and Samantha smiled. They’d had this talk before, but she didn’t grow tired of reassuring Shepard. She supposed she could’ve taken it as a sign of Shepard doubting the validity of her feelings, but that had never occurred to her, because that wasn’t the tone Shepard set when asking about it.

Instead, her asking something like that -as lighthearted and nonchalant as the tried sounding when saying the words- was a spot of vulnerability Samantha knew Shepard didn’t bare easily, and that she did it for her spoke volumes how much she trusted Samantha. She supposed it was a terrible thing to take as a compliment, but it didn’t change how she felt about it.

“Because you’re beautiful, funny, intelligent, compassionate and generous… the two latter ones amazing traits on anyone, but especially on you because I know how easily you could be the opposite because of the childhood you withstood. Instead, you’re kind,” Samantha listed.

“Well, not always,” Shepard mumbled against the side of Samantha’s neck.  
“You’re kind to those who don’t try to take advantage of it,” she corrected somewhat and put her arms around Shepard’s shoulders, hugging her tightly.

“You make everything better, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
“Probably sulk a bit more,” Samantha suggested, and Shepard chortled.

“A lot more,” she nodded and sat up straight, inhaling and exhaling deeply.  
“Ready to tell the others you forgive them for being inconsiderate jerks?” Samantha then smirked.

“Let ‘em sweat a little,” Shepard grinned back, took Samantha’s hand into her own and got up, proceeding to head toward the elevator. They had a space hamster to dress up.

***


	8. Don't worry, be happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to “Heh, heh… what’s happened to me? I must be dreaming. I feel like I can take out the world!” for shaynor .

“Sam? Saaammm…? Sammy!”  
“Oh, good Lord, what?” Samantha groaned and turned to lay on her back. It was the middle of the night, and she’d just finally gotten to sleep.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Shepard inquired, leaning so close to Samantha that their noses touched, and Samantha didn’t even bother questioning the ridiculousness of her words.  
“Honey, I’m trying to sleep here.”

“Then close your eyes, and hush… shhh…” Shepard said unnecessarily loudly and ran her palm over Samantha’s cheek.  
“Okay,” she exhaled and took Shepard’s hand into her own. When she was woken by Shepard’s voice again, she was certain she’d only had five minutes of sleep. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was morning.

“Heh, heh… what’s happened to me? I must be dreaming. I feel like I can take out the world!” Shepard yelled excitedly, and Samantha exhaled deeply. This nonsense would go on for another few days, possibly a week at most. The fever was one thing, but the medication Shepard had been put on was what really did her in. Not that the medicine did much more than made her loopy enough to forget the discomfort, there was no cure for the common cold.

“Strong enough to take out the world, huh?” Samantha said quietly with a smile when she entered the living room where Shepard’s voice had come from, and discovered the redhead lying on the couch. Despite being rather amused by Shepard’s antics, Samantha had to admit she was worried.

She supposed it was ironic that someone as tough as Shepard would be the one who could get taken down so easily by a relatively common virus. She was still recovering from the injuries she’d sustained during the war, and the heavy doses of immunosuppressant drugs she was on to ensure her body wouldn’t just spit out the spare parts installed (as Shepard had so eloquently put it) ensured she caught almost every bug she encountered. Her health being what it was, a common cold could easily turn into a life and death-situation.

“Oh, I want to get up and do that, but I can’t move,” Shepard muttered into the cushions.  
“Do what now?” Samantha frowned as she took a seat on the arm rest and ran her hand through Shepard’s hair. She noticed it felt a bit damp from sweat. Her fever must have begun to go down.

“You. Do you. Hah,” she said and then scoffed loudly: “What are you talking about?”  
“Oh-kay, how about you just try getting more sleep,” Samantha smiled, kissed Shepard’s temple and was about to get up, but Shepard put her hand over Samantha’s forearm to stop her.

“I want to be coddled and cuddled.”  
“You don’t feel coddled already? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like doing just that is my full-time job nowadays,” Samantha teased, but Shepard was too out of it to get it.

“Maybe we should consider putting you into a hamster ball every time you need to get out, so that you won’t have to be in contact with others and get their germs,” Samantha then suggested as she sat on the couch and Shepard went to rest her head in Samantha’s lap.

“Mister Janeway would get jealous because mine’s bigger,” Shepard muttered.  
“I sincerely doubt he would care.”

“Oooh, what if I filled my hamster ball with water? I could swim in it.”  
“You’d almost certainly drown.”

“You never support my ideas,” Shepard grumbled and turned to nuzzle into Samantha’s belly.  
“Not when your ideas could get you killed,” Samantha confirmed with a smile.

* * *

“It reeks like a hospital in here,” Shepard muttered after blowing her nose for the umpteenth time; the garbage can beside the couch she occupied was overflowing with used tissues.  
“Finally, some progress, you can smell again,” Samantha noted.

“Yeah, and I wish I couldn’t, I smell terrible,” Shepard said. “Any chance you’d want to join me in a hot shower?” she then grinned.  
“Since the intent is to actually just shower and get cleaned, I think that would be a terrible idea,” Samantha pointed out, and Shepard laughed hoarsely.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” she admitted and got up.

Once Shepard had gone into the bathroom and Samantha could hear the water running, she exhaled deeply and gave in to the sobs she’d been holding back for a while now. She didn’t even know why she was crying, not exactly. Part of it was just relief, Shepard was getting better. But mostly it was… out of fear and that feeling of helplessness.

Bursting into tears hadn’t helped during the war, and it certainly wouldn’t help now either, but quite frankly, she was tired of being strong. However, breaking down in front of Shepard would’ve been… awkward and ridiculous because Shepard had never broken down, and she out of all people would’ve had every right to do so.

Samantha knew Shepard wouldn’t just tell her to get over it and stop whining, she wasn’t the type who would. At the same time, Samantha couldn’t bring herself to let the full extent of her concern show. She didn’t want Shepard to worry about her. She was fine, she was just… terrified of losing Shepard. Terrified and angry at the mere possibility of having to let her go after everything they’d already survived.

Every time Shepard got sick, it was worse than the last time had been. Shepard didn’t acknowledge it herself (if she was even aware of it), but Samantha noticed. Her fevers ran higher, it took her longer to recover, the complications had gone from a little cough to full blown pneumonia. What little defenses her body had left were slowly being chipped away by the relentless assaults and it was only a matter of time before there’d be nothing left, and one errant sneeze from a stranger on the street would be enough to bring her down for good.

_I’m being such a drama queen,_ Samantha mused silently, wiped her eyes and inhaled deeply before letting out in a long, sharp breath. Shepard had been taking a relatively high dosage of immunosuppressants for over half a year now, and Dr. Chakwas had told her they’d slowly start bringing the dosage down and see how she reacts. Chances were, Shepard’s body had learned some manners and had become a welcoming host during this time.

_She is going to be fine, I’m worrying over nothing,_ Samantha told herself. Shepard had adapted to the tech Cerberus had implanted in her, she would adapt to this too when given enough time.

“I needed that,” Shepard exhaled happily when she exited the bathroom, wearing a thick bathrobe and toweling her hair dry. She’d let it grow and it reached over her shoulder blades easily, and while Samantha quite liked the long hair on Shepard, she could tell Shepard was just itching to go have it cut. She was too used to short hair, the longer it got, the more it tended to get in her way.

“Feeling better?” Samantha inquired, and Shepard nodded as she took a seat on the couch.  
“Well, I know I’ll need a couple more days of some R&R, but I’m good. I don’t think I need to take those pills the doc gave me for the cold. They make me feel a little weird,” Shepard said.

“A little? You were acting like you were high,” Samantha chuckled.  
“That must’ve been entertaining.”

“It could be, yes. Especially that time when you called that sushi-place and asked them if they had home delivery and then you ordered three pounds of French fries and some cucumber mayo.”  
“You’re making that up,” Shepard scoffed amusedly.

“And you’re banned from the restaurant,” Samantha countered with a smirk.  
“Well, seeing as they obviously can’t even deliver a batch of fries, I don’t think I’d want to take my business there anyway,” Shepard shrugged, and Samantha burst out laughing.

“You’re unbelievable… and I love you,” she said and leaned to kiss Shepard’s cheek.  
“I love you too, Samantha,” she responded, her voice low and husky, partly because of the cold, but mostly because it always dropped like that whenever she said that.

“Are you okay? You seem a little down,” Shepard then noted.  
“I’m just worried about you, nothing unusual,” Samantha smiled ruefully.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine, I promise. I’m not going anywhere,” Shepard whispered seriously.  
“I’ll hold you to that.”

Shepard smiled, put her arms around Samantha and pulled her into a gentle embrace. Samantha closed her eyes and held on to Shepard tightly, ignoring the uncomfortable way Shepard’s still wet hair stuck into her cheek.

“It must be annoying to have everyone constantly tell you they worry about you,” Samantha then realized, and Shepard nodded a little.  
“It is, but I know everyone means well, it’s just that I don’t know what to tell them to convince them I’m okay,” she said, slowly pulling back from the hug. She grabbed the towel that was still draped over her shoulders and began drying her hair once more.

“I’d rather people worried about me when there was an actual reason to do so. Now, it’s like everyone’s stuck in some weird crisis mode, expecting me to fall into pieces at the drop of a hat. And it’s not like worrying about what might happen would help anyway. I learned that from Liara,” Shepard continued as she assembled the towel into a turban of sorts.

“I hope you both appreciate the irony of that, because Liara is one of the people who worry about you the most… if you don’t count me,” Samantha said.  
“I hadn’t thought about it, but now that you mention it, you have a point,” Shepard agreed. “Bottom line is… don’t worry about me until there’s something genuinely wrong.”

“So, what, ‘don’t worry, be happy’, that’s your solution?” Samantha’s eyebrow quirked.  
“Hey, it’s worked fine thus far,” Shepard shrugged and offered a brilliant smile, and even Samantha had to laugh a little bit at that. One certainly couldn’t blame Shepard for having a bad attitude, that was for sure.

After getting dressed in loose fitting pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt, Shepard dragged the pillows and the blanket to the living room from the bed. When Samantha questioned her actions, she informed her that she intended to make a comfortable little nest for herself on the couch and spend the rest of the day doing nothing but watching bad horror movies.

“You’re welcome to join me,” Shepard then said, patting the empty space next to her.  
“I’m not really a fan of horror movies,” Samantha commented, but decided to join Shepard anyway, wiggling a little to find a comfortable fit as she settled down to be Shepard’s little spoon.

“These aren’t actually genuinely scary, these are old and so bad they’re good. Joker gave me a list ages ago, but I haven’t had a chance to go through all of them. Actually, I think the next one on the list was Edi’s suggestion,” Shepard said as she browsed the online catalogue with the remote.

“Yeah, I’m beginning to see that too,” Samantha chuckled as she read the synopsis of _Maximum overdrive_ , which apparently was a movie about machines becoming homicidal due to a radiation storm.  
“This can not possibly be bad,” Shepard laughed and started the movie.

Within thirty minutes, Shepard had already fallen asleep again. Samantha didn’t wake her, instead she snuggled closer and continued watching the movie. She could easily see why Edi would recommend it.

Once the movie ended, Samantha switched the screen off and turned around to be able to face Shepard. Her mouth was slightly open, her breathing rather loud because of her stuffy nose. There was a wet patch on the pillow underneath the corner of Shepard’s mouth.

_Some people are said to look like graceful angels when they sleep, but that’s never really been you, has it?_ Samantha mused with a smile. Shepard was anything but calm and graceful when asleep. She was the type who lay in the middle of the bed with her limbs all pointing in different directions. Or, at least, that was how she slept until Samantha went to her; that was when Shepard instinctively moved to spoon Samantha. It worked every time.

“Mnhuh?” Shepard made a noise and startled a little.  
“Nothing, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Samantha whispered.

“Don’t worry, be happy,” Shepard muttered sleepily, her chin resting on the top of Samantha’s head, her arms around her shoulders. Samantha let out a soft chuckle at that and nuzzled into Shepard’s neck.  
“I won’t, and I am,” she smiled and held onto Shepard, realizing that for the first time in months, she really was at ease.

She’d spent so much time thinking being happy was easier said than done that she’d never even bothered trying the simplest way of achieving inner peace. But right now, being held in Shepard’s arms and hearing her say “don’t worry, be happy” really was all she needed to be happy.

***


	9. Hamster house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to  
> "Care to explain how you got into my house?” for spacehamster and cloneshep. During the Normandy coup when cloneshep reaches Shep's quarter and finds the spacehamster roaming said quarters. Maybe being disturbed munching on Shep's peanutbutter cups and cloneshep (M. Brooks optional) try to catch him to send him to the animal shelter (we all know how this ends XD) Plus points for writing it in Hamster's POV ;)"  
> 

“Meep!”  
“What was that?”

_I said “Care to explain how you got into my house?” You’re not Shepard. You look like her but you also look wrong. Your face is too smooth… and you smell wrong._

“Is that a rat?” Maya Brooks made a face and the clone rolled her eyes. Apparently Brooks had forgotten to switch off the whole helpless little Alliance desk officer-act.

_Who are you calling a rat, you bitch? I’ll claw your eyes out for that!_

“Are you seriously saying you can’t tell the difference between a space hamster and a rat?” the clone quirked an eyebrow and stepped closer to the desk where said little animal was sitting. His cage (that had the hamster’s name engraved on it, apparently he was called Mister Janeway) was sat on the shelf across the table, and it looked neatly closed, and the clone frowned at that. How had the hamster ended up on the desk? Maybe the real Shepard… No, wait, she _was_ the real Shepard, the clone corrected herself mentally. Maybe the other Shepard had let the hamster out of the cage and let it roam around freely. How irresponsible.

“Come on, you’re going back to your cage,” the clone said and reached for the hamster, the tiny rodent almost managing to slip away from her, but she managed to form a cage around it with her fingers before it had a chance.

_Let go of me, you barbarian! Come on, bring that face closer, I’ll give you some scars, you impostor!_

“Augh, just kill it,” Brooks scoffed and the clone glared at her.

“Hey, I’m not a fan of rodents either, I sure as hell don’t understand keeping one as pet, I mean… what’s the point of a pet like this?” she said and held up the hamster as if to illustrate her point, “But I’m not gonna kill it, he may be a stupid pet, but he hasn’t done anything wrong. Besides, how long do these things live anyway, a week?” she dismissed with a shrug and went to put the hamster back into its cage, but before she could, she felt a stinging pain in the side of her thumb as the space hamster sunk his teeth into her skin.

“Ow, shit!” the clone yelped and shook her hand to dislodge the hamster that was clinging to her thumb with its teeth. The hamster flew across the room and landed on the bed at the lower level.

“You still don’t want to kill it?” Brooks smirked as she went to capture the hamster.  

_Okay, I’m free, but I need to… oh, why is everything so white and soft, it’s difficult to move in this fluff, I don’t have the time for this!_

Mister Janeway scuttled across the bed, toward the side to land on the floor, from there he would be able to make his way almost anywhere, but he would need to get off the wide field of white fluff that restricted his movements.

_Oh, no, what is that?_

Had it been up to Brooks, she would’ve just hit the bed with a Carnage-blast of her shotgun, that would’ve dealt with the terrible Alliance-issue bedsheets as well as the annoying rodent, but apparently her Shepard had something in common with the original despite how hard she tried denying it. Killing innocent animals must’ve been against her nature on the deepest level, in her DNA.

The clone threw a blanket over the hamster and gathered it up into her arms, slowly and carefully bringing the wriggling little bump in the fabric over the hamster cage and began to ease the hamster out and into the cage. Once she was done, she sealed the cage and put it on a cart with the rest of the other Shepard’s belongings (model ships, what a ridiculous thing to waste time on, especially when considering there was a galactic war happening), wheeled it all into the elevator and sent it down with a note. They were not to kill the hamster, but they should get rid of it.

“Are you done wasting time protecting that little furball? We do have more important things to worry about.”

“It took like two minutes, what could possibly happen in two minutes that would make a difference big enough to change the outcome?” the clone smirked confidently and got into the elevator when it was sent back up empty. She went to the galaxy map and sighed annoyedly when she noticed the merc hovering behind her awkwardly. He was obviously reluctant to deliver her the news he felt he needed to.

“What is it?” the clone snapped and the merc informed her of the breach the system had registered just before the take off.

As he heard this, Mister Janeway did a victorious little jump. Apparently, the two minute distraction he’d caused with his antics had been enough to allow the real Shepard to sneak in without the clone and Brooks noticing. Now it was up to her, and knowing the real Shepard, things would be just fine. Mister Janeway settled to lay down and went to take a nap after deciding that his work here was done. All in a day’s work.


	10. En passant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to "Oh my god! You're in love with them!" Any characters you like!"  
> I went with Samantha Traynor and Liara T'soni, because I've seen a few suggestions regarding this pairing, and I wanted to see if could make it work. Not sure if could, but I think there's potential there for sure. :D

Samantha leaned her head into her palm and sighed as she idly rearranged the pieces on the chessboard. Had it been all about wanting to win, she would’ve been perfectly happy with her winning streak, but the truth was, winning felt rather pointless when the competition was practically non-existent. It was the equivalent of playing a video game on “amateur” after having acquired all the possible power ups; it was too easy, it was overkill.

Playing against EDI had been challenging, but ultimately somewhat frustrating, because EDI’s fast pace sucked most of the fun out of the game. Samantha could plan moves ahead, but EDI could play out the entire game and adapt in seconds based on whatever move Samantha made. That too was overkill. She’d beaten EDI once, barely. It had felt surprisingly hollow despite it being quite an accomplishment.

“Is this seat taken?” Liara asked with a smile. Obviously it wasn’t, all the seats at the mess hall table were empty, the other members of the crew having gone back to their duties or to get some shut eye after their shifts.  
“Oh, it isn’t, please,” Samantha replied and gestured toward the empty seat across from her own.

“Do you feel up to playing a game?” Liara inquired, nodding toward the chessboard.  
“I had no idea you played.”

“I haven’t for very long, but I’ve found I quite enjoy it.”  
“Well, I would love to play,” Samantha smiled and slid the chessboard closer to the middle of the table.

Their game went on for a long while, and in the end, Samantha did win, but for the first time in a while, there was a sense of accomplishment accompanying the win. Her opponent had actually been a worthy one.

“This was fun, maybe we can play again some time,” Liara smiled.  
“I would like that a lot,” Samantha nodded.

art created by[ Oceanmyhope.](https://oceanmyhope.tumblr.com/)

* * *

  
Samantha shared Liara’s feeling of guilt over spending time doing something as frivolous as playing chess while they both should’ve been focusing their efforts on helping the commander figure out a way to end this war. However, there were times when nothing could be done, and they could’ve spent the time waiting and worrying, or alternatively, spend it together, playing chess.

Honestly, at this point, it wasn’t the game itself that Samantha found herself enjoying so much. It was the talking. She’d heard stories about the commander and the crew’s various adventures from the other members of the crew who’d been there since the very beginning, but they’d only scratched the surface.

Liara knew how to put more meat to the bones of the story, it wasn’t a simple description that went something along the lines of “pew-pew-pew and whoosh, and then explosion and monsters and more explosions”.  There was no useless bravado coloring the details, it was an honest telling of what had happened from Liara’s point of view, not excluding even the painful moments like the fight with Benezia or all the times her heart had gone out for Shepard when he’d had to face impossible odds and accept that the only decisions he could make were all bad.

“Shepard is an impressive commanding officer and a magnificent human being, but I admit that there are times when I can’t agree with him on everything. I suppose that’s why he’s in charge, he’s not afraid of making decisions which will make some people dislike him,” Liara said and moved her knight into position, getting ready to capture Samantha’s queen, or alternatively her knight. Either way, she’d lose a piece.

“He’s a good man, and sometimes being a good man comes at a great cost,” Samantha said as she eyes the board, trying to find a way to save her pawns.  
“Yes, being good requires a lot of sacrifices. There are times when one has to wonder is the good that comes out of it all truly worth it,” Liara mused as Samantha made the hard decision and saved her queen while sacrificing her knight.

“I don’t know how he does it,” Samantha muttered.  
“I don’t either,” Liara agreed. “Checkmate.”

“Oh, bollocks,” Samantha scoffed and Liara chuckled quietly at her reaction.  
“I believe that we are tied overall. Want to keep playing or should we agree we’re both good and leave it at that?” she inquired. Samantha pursed her lips as she thought about it. At this point, she would miss the chats more than the game.

“Let’s agree to a tie and switch to a different game. Maybe cards?” she grinned.  
“I look forward to beating you at cards then, specialist Traynor,” Liara smiled and turned her attention to her omni-tool. It was time to get back to work, it seemed.

“Likewise, Doctor T’soni,” Samantha chuckled and gathered the chessboard and the pieces up as Liara exited the lounge.

“All right, what’s this, what’s happening, what’s going on here?” Kasumi’s voice demanded to know and she decloaked, appearing as if out of thin air onto the couch, startling Samantha so badly she dropped the board and the pieces.  
“You have _got_ to stop doing that!” she exclaimed and took a few deep breaths to calm down before kneeling on the floor to pick up the items she’d dropped.

“Oh, my God! You’re in love with Liara.”  
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Samantha scoffed.

“Really? Because the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard was the story about a doctor who described a clitoris as a ‘non-functional penis-like appendage’. Don’t ask me how he ever passed medical school, or how he’d lived through his entire life without ever learning what a clitoris is,” Kasumi shrugged as she stood up and crossed the room to grab herself a drink at the bar.

“What…? What does that have to do anything?” Samantha frowned.  
“Nothing, I just wanted to share the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Compared to what you said is the most ridiculous thing you’ve heard, I think I got you beat.”

“I didn’t realize this was a competition,” Samantha rolled her eyes and got up, tucking the chessboard underneath her arm.  
“Hm, yes, much like you obviously didn’t realize you have feelings for Liara,” Kasumi said nonchalantly and took a sip of her drink.

“Don’t you think I would be the first to know if I did actually have feelings for someone?” Samantha challenged, her eyebrow quirking and Kasumi laughed quietly, shaking her head.  
“Obviously not. Come on, think about it. You love spending time with her, yes?”

“Okay, yeah, but I also love spending time with a lot of others too, so.”

“Uh-huh, so you’re saying that you _don’t_ feel a warm little flutter in your chest every time she’s nearby? That you _don’t_ miss her when you’re not together? That you _don’t_ kind of forget to breathe every time she smiles at you? Because if that’s the case, then my mistake,” Kasumi chatted casually, knowing perfectly well she’d made no mistake.

“…I should go,” Samantha muttered, and Kasumi snorted.  
“That’s Shepard’s line!” she called out after her with a chuckled.

* * *

“Samantha. I’m sorry, I’m not really in the mood to play today,” Liara apologized when Samantha entered her office.  
“Oh, no, I wasn’t expecting you to be, that’s not why I’m here,” Samantha said quietly.

After Thessia’s fall, Liara had remained locked in her office. Shepard had managed to encourage her to continue working and get out of the slump she’d been in, but she was still far from fine. As was Shepard, only he was doing a better job at hiding it… out of desperate necessity. Escaping the evil into one’s lover’s arms would’ve been easier.

“I can’t imagine you’d want anyone human saying anything to you right now, least of all express their condolences with platitudes. Earth was attacked, yes, but… that doesn’t mean I know how you feel.”  
“Anyone human? What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just… you know, the man responsible for all this… and for almost everything else that’s gone wrong recently is a human, a radical maniac who is beyond reason and doesn’t care how much he destroys as long as he gets what he wants. So…”  
“If you honestly think I would blame the entire humanity for the actions of one man and his followers, you clearly do not know me, specialist Traynor.”

“I… that’s not… I’m sorry, it came out wrong, I didn’t mean…” Samantha stammered, twisting her hands awkwardly.  
“It’s all right,” Liara assured quietly, finished typing whatever she’d been working on at her station and then turned her full attention to Samantha.

“I… came here because a part of me felt like I should do something or say something… even if I don’t exactly know what or how it could possibly make a difference…” Samantha began and Liara frowned a little bit, the slight quirk of her eyebrow implying she wasn’t sure she understood, but that she was curious to hear more.

“I can’t say anything that would fix things for you. I can’t do anything either, because I’m… well, I’m not Shepard,” Samantha continued with an awkward chuckle and shook her head a little.

“…but regardless, I _needed_ to be here, I needed you to know that I… that I’m so… so sorry about what happened and that if I could do anything to erase all the pain, I would do it in a heartbeat, because… because you don’t deserve this. No one does, but especially not you.”

“Samantha, I appreciate your words and you being here, it’s nice to know you care, it really does mean a lot to me.”  
“I do care, and I sincerely wish there was more I could do…”

“You don’t need to do more, you’ve done everything you can, and that’s more than I could ask for. Thank you.”

“Liara…” Samantha said, stepping closer to her and reaching to take her hands into her own. “I don’t know what’ll happen in the next day or two. I mean, obviously I have faith in Shepard and I know he’ll fight like hell to win this, but either way… no matter what happens, I need you to know that I really care for you. And maybe once this is over, we could… meet for a game of chess again, settle the score once and for all,” she said, smiling ruefully.

It wasn’t a game of chess she was talking about, not really, and they both knew it. It was the aftermath. It was everything that could be. Maybe the house with the white picket fence, two kids and a dog. Some kind of a retriever.

“If… _when_ we win this… I would like nothing more,” Liara whispered.  
“Good. Then… I’ll see you here… once it’s done. Once there’s peace.”

“I’ll be here. You bring the chessboard, I’ll bring the wine.”

***


	11. Delicacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to “I fell in love with my best friend.” for FemShep and Tali

Once upon a time, Tali had told Shepard she couldn’t sleep on the Normandy very well because the ship was so quiet, and to her, silence meant danger because it usually was a sign of engines failing. When Shepard had told her she had a solution, and then explained the solution, Tali had been more than just a tad suspicious. But regardless, she’d gone to the commander’s private quarters, settled to lay on her bed, unsure what to expect exactly.

Shepard had sat next to her and proceeded to mime pulling invisible strings slowly, the movements of her hands oddly hypnotic. She had so many fingers, it was weird. While doing that, she’d used her other hand to make quiet tapping sounds right next to Tali’s head. It hadn’t taken long for her to begin feeling drowsy and drift off to sleep.

Sometimes, Shepard had read to her in a quiet, soft voice. No matter what the method, she’d always managed to help Tali get to sleep. She supposed her nightly visits to the commander’s quarters had been noticed, but no one had said anything. Not even Joker, surprisingly.

Over time, it had just become… the most natural thing in the galaxy and neither one of them had ever even thought twice about it.

After going their separate ways after defeating Saren, it had taken a long time to get used to sleeping without Shepard. Nowadays, Tali found herself liking the quiet. But she missed Shepard, and she didn’t think that just walking into the commander’s quarters like old times was an option. Things were different now.

“Tali. Can I help you?” Shepard smiled when the doors to her cabin slid open and she let Tali in.  
“I wanted to apologize… for questioning you regarding working with Cerberus. I know you’re only doing whatever it takes, and I should’ve trusted you from the start,” Tali said.

“It’s all right. I dread the day everyone on the ship agrees with me. I need you to question me at times, otherwise I’ll just bludgeon my way through life thinking I’m the best since no one’s ever told me otherwise,” Shepard chuckled and walked to the lower level, taking a seat on the couch.

“Maybe so, but… you’re my best friend, Shepard. I shouldn’t have questioned you.”  
“Tali, it’s okay. I welcome the scrutiny, keeps me honest,” Shepard winked and patted the empty seat next to her, silently inviting Tali to sit down. “How are you feeling?” she then inquired as Tali sat and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.

“About the mission? I’m cautiously optimistic. We’ve got a good team, the ship’s been upgraded, everyone’s ready to do this.”  
“Good.”

“What about you, Shepard? Are you ready for this?”

“Myself? Yes. But, if given the option, I would do this alone rather than risk the entire team’s lives. We don’t know what’s gonna happen when we jump through the Omega-four relay. Even if we do survive the jump, there’s no guarantee we can make it back. And that’s a possibility I’d rather not subject others to. Something I’d… not want to subject you to.”

“I’m here because I want to be. I know, I know, you’re the amazing Commander Shepard, you can save the galaxy alone, but I find it hard to imagine the others would let you hog all the glory. I know I won’t,” Tali chuckled quietly and Shepard offered a rueful smile.

Days like this, she did wish she could do it all by herself, she hated being put in a position which required her to take risks like this, and to knowingly put others in harm’s way.

“But, since we’re on the subject of passing the point of no return… I realize that this may be my last chance.”

“Last chance? To do what?” Shepard frowned and Tali made an awkward noise. What she’d told Shepard the other day, about her being the one person she would trust to link her suit environment with, she’d assumed Shepard would get it… but then, Tali herself had backed out, babbled nervously and dismissed the commander by saying she had to get back to work, when in reality she didn’t, she’d just not dared to open herself up to any follow-up questions or comments. Shepard hadn’t seemed to think much of it, other than admit she was honored by the mere idea and could appreciate it was a big deal for Tali.

“Shepard… you’ve always been a good friend to me, from day one. You treated me like an equal despite that I’m a quarian… which might not sound like a big deal for you, but it was and continues to be to me.”

“I know a thing or two about being underestimated and misunderstood because of my background,” Shepard smirked. It was funny because it was sad; those now praising her as a hero and a savior were the exact same people who had brushed her off as nothing but a street rat not so long ago. They had chosen to forget where she came from, make her out to be something bigger and better, ignoring important details which had molded Shepard into the person she was now. But she hadn’t forgotten, and she wouldn’t. For the most part, the details of her past weren’t pleasant… but they were necessary and important.

“I know you do, Shepard. It doesn’t cease to amaze that you grew up to be so kind despite the things done to you…” Tali trailed off awkwardly, not really wanting to get into it anymore than Shepard did. She shook her head and sighed.  
“It’s okay, it rarely hurts anymore,” Shepard assured with a rueful smile. “Anyway… what were you saying, about last chances?” she then frowned.

“Right,” Tali exhaled deeply. “Last chance to tell you that you’re my best friend and that somewhere along the line… I fell in love with my best friend,” she confessed in a tiny voice, staring intently at the floor, not daring to look at Shepard, somehow convincing herself that if she didn’t face Shepard, she wouldn’t be able to reject her. It was a silly little thing to hang her hopes and dreams on, but it worked… for a while at least.

“I know what you’re going to say. That it wouldn’t work, that this isn’t the time, that it would be difficult because you’re human and I’m quarian… which basically means we’re allergic to each other… and because humans need physical intimacy, which is something I can’t do… at least not very often, because it could literally kill me…” Tali listed and Shepard chewed on her lower lip as she listened, a tiny smile tugging the corner of her mouth.

“Well, judging from that little monologue of yours, I can safely say you clearly do not know me quite as well as you think you do,” Shepard smiled.  
“…what?” Tali inhaled and finally faced Shepard. She slid closer on the couch and reached to place her hand over Tali’s forearm.

“You know, at first I thought of you as kind of a… know-it-all-little sister,” Shepard chuckled softly. “Then you began coming around and we started talking and you’d stay for the night, and I’d hold you and… I came to realize my feelings for you aren’t sisterly at all,” she shook her head a little.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”  
“I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Besides, you were getting ready to head back to the migrant fleet after your pilgrimage was over, I didn’t want to mess up your plans. And… also, I died for a while there,” Shepard smirked and Tali punched her shoulder playfully for that.

“You wouldn’t have made me feel uncomfortable. In fact, I’ve never felt more comfortable and protected as I do when I’m with you,” she then said, her voice barely audible.  
“Even now, when the galaxy is practically ending? Damn, I’m good,” Shepard jested and while she couldn’t see it, she could tell Tali was rolling her eyes at her.

“You can be such a bosh’tet at times, you know that?”  
“I know, and I’ve been called that in every language imaginable,” Shepard smiled sweetly before slowly inhaling deeply and becoming more serious. “Do you want to sleep over, like old times?”

“I want more than that,” Tali said and Shepard’s eyebrows rose almost all the way to her hairline.  
“…oh?”

“Too soon?”  
“Huh, no, just… I wasn’t expecting that,” Shepard chuckled.

“Yeah, well, you know. I’ve never…”  
“Oh, yeah, I… I know. And in addition to all that, it could possibly kill you.”

“Theoretically, yes, but I can say that about a lot of things,” Tali dismissed and Shepard scoffed amusedly.  
“No pressure on me to make it worth it, then?” she smirked. Tali shook her head a little, running her finger over the back of Shepard’s hand.

“None whatsoever,” she said, her smile audible in her voice.

* * *

Shepard had spent the past forty-five minutes in the shower, realizing it was more or less pointless in the end. Prior to that, she’d spent hours studying the materials Mordin had sent her… and then an equally long time having doctor Chakwas give her a long list of things that she could expect to experience afterward _despite_ the ridiculous amounts of medication she’d taken.

 _This is definitely the most trouble I’ve ever gone through for sex. I mean… is this sensible?_ Shepard mused as she scrubbed herself with an antibacterial soap for the seventh time. No, it wasn’t sensible, but quite frankly, most of her adult life hadn’t been sensible. Her life had been series of crises, lucky coincidences and surviving out of sheer stubbornness after doing stupidly dangerous things time and again… but rarely could she honestly say the things she did were sensible.

“What if this ruins our friendship? What am I saying, of course it’s gonna ruin our friendship. But that’s not necessarily completely bad. Things must end so that new things can begin, so… who’s to say this isn’t a beginning. If we even survive the jump through the Omega-four relay, that is,” Shepard sighed, turned the water off at last and reached for a fresh towel.

“Oh, come on, River. The galaxy’s burning, just kiss the girl,” she scoffed at her reflection in the mirror before exiting the bathroom.  
“Do you always talk to yourself that much… and that loudly?” Tali inquired. She’d been just beyond the door, curiously regarding the small cage and the rodent occupying it.

“Only when I need an opinion I actually care about,” Shepard quipped, shrugging one shoulder a little.  
“It also just occurred to me that I never knew your first name until just now. River. It suits you.”

“Wait until you hear what my middle name is,” Shepard said, toweling her red hair dry, unconsciously reaching for her clothes only to pause and hesitate upon realizing getting dressed could be rather pointless.  
“Tell me,” Tali said and went to the lower level.

“It’s Song.”  
“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Nope. That’s what happens when you let a kid name herself,” Shepard laughed.  
“River Song Shepard. Girlier than what I would’ve expected from you,” Tali teased.

“I was six years old when I came up with that! Besides, I _am_ a girl. I’m a delicate, feminine flower.”  
“And I’m a krogan warlord,” Tali said and they both burst out laughing.

Shepard cleared her throat a little then and went to take a seat on the edge of the bed, and Tali joined her.

“You are sure about this?” Shepard asked softly and Tali nodded.  
“I know what I’m doing. Do you?”

“Based on my track record, you’d think that I do considering how often I succeed in the end, but honestly… most of the time I have no idea what I’m doing,” Shepard said, her tone of voice implying she was joking, but they both knew there was some truth to the words. “This would be one of those times.”

Tali didn’t comment; instead, she brought her hand up and slowly removed the mask, setting onto the bedside table before turning her attention to Shepard, folding her hands in her lap somewhat awkwardly as she inhaled and exhaled nervously.

“So… how do I look?” she grinned a little and Shepard smiled.  
“Better than I imagined, and I’d imagined perfection.”

* * *

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Shepard, but are you sure that’s not contagious?” Kenneth Donnelly inquired for the third time as he glanced over to the commander who was sitting across from him at the mess hall table.  
“She told you, it’s an allergic reaction to something she ate, leave her alone,” Gabriella Daniels scoffed.

“Exactly,” Shepard confirmed once more, rubbing her chin with the back of her hand as the irritated skin itched. “I figured why not live a little since we might die tomorrow, so I indulged in a little quarian delicacy Tali wanted to share, and I knew this might happen so… it’s really nothing to worry about,” she added, muttering her words into her coffee mug as she sipped the hot beverage.

“Must’ve been quite a delicacy,” Kenneth muttered with a grin.  
“To die for,” Shepard grinned back.

***


	12. Homesick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to “You can’t die. Please, don’t die.”

Shepard rushed inside, tossing her helmet aside carelessly, tugging and tearing at her burnt and bloody armor as she went, ignoring the mess she made, leaving behind a trail of equipment and blood.

“You can’t die. Please, don’t die,” she muttered under her breath as she ran into her quarters only to realize she was too late.  
“God damn it all to hell!” she yelled as she dropped to her knees and slammed her fist repeatedly against the floor.

Samantha leaned her shoulder to the door frame, her arms folded over her abdomen and legs crossed at the ankles. She cleared her throat a little to get Shepard’s attention.

“Are you quite done being dramatic?” she inquired. Shepard sat on the floor and sighed, her shoulders slumping a little.  
“I just don’t get it, why do they keep dying?” she said, eyeing the aquarium and the fish that were floating dead on the surface.

“Well, this may come as a surprise to you, but they need to be fed.”  
“What, every five minutes? It’s ridiculous,” Shepard scoffed like an agitated toddler and Samantha went to take a seat next to her on the floor.

“More like once every day, but at least once a week,” she said and put her arm around Shepard’s shoulders, the underarmor surprisingly soft under her touch. Soft, and unpleasantly damp with blood and sweat. She’d never realized just how dirty Shepard and everyone else got on the battlefield. Whenever she’d seen Shepard, the commander had always been as fresh as one could be on a ship in a situation like this.

“I don’t understand why I keep forgetting to feed them,” Shepard sighed and slumped against Samantha, resting her head on her shoulder.  
“Maybe you shouldn’t get any more fish for now,” Samantha muttered and kissed the top of Shepard’s head before nuzzling into her hair, immediately regretting doing that when the stench of the battlefield clinging on to Shepard struck her senses.

“Goodness, Shepard, you reek of…”  
“Of shit, I know.”

“I was going to say sewer, but yeah, meant the same,” Samantha said.  
“It’s because the thing people don’t like to tell you about dying is that when you die, you shit yourself. Among other things. So, battlefields tend to get stinky,” Shepard explained.

“I’ve known that, but I’ve kind of chosen not to think about it. Also… ew, you ran here straight from the field and I touched you,” Samantha made a face and pulled away from Shepard.  
“We might have to take a shower,” Shepard grinned and stood up, offering her hand to Samantha who accepted the assistance despite not really needing it. She scoffed a little at Shepard’s antics and shrugged one shoulder.

“No ‘might’ about it, we definitely need a shower,” she confirmed and began to undress, doing a rather quick job of it when compared to Shepard who was still fully armored from the waist down.

* * *

Shepard lay back on the bed, resting her upper body against Samantha, the large blanket wrapped around them. She smiled, her eyes closed and exhaled a deep, content breath. Samantha slowly ran her fingers through Shepard’s hair and trailed her fingers along the sides of her neck and over her shoulders before slowly sliding them back up again to sink them into Shepard’s hair, her fingernails lightly scratching the scalp.

“I’m not even going to pretend I understand how you do it,” she said.  
“Do what?” Shepard muttered sleepily.

“Fight.”  
“Well, it’s mostly instinct and muscle memory by now.”

“I didn’t mean literally,” Samantha laughed softly and nuzzled the top of Shepard’s head, slowly snaking her arms under Shepard’s and wrapping them around Shepard then, hugging her to herself tightly.  
“Oh. Either way. I’m a marine and we’re at war, fighting is what I do.”

“I know… and as happy I am knowing that you’re handling this… I wish you didn’t have to.”  
“At least I’m not alone in it, that’s something,” Shepard smiled.

“Is this what you wanted to be? You know, growing up?”  
“To save the galaxy? Hah, God, no,” Shepard laughed heartily, shaking her head. Samantha exhaled deeply and while Shepard couldn’t see, she knew Samantha was rolling her eyes.

“I didn’t even know if I would grow up, didn’t exactly bother wasting time dreaming big when I was running with gangs or…” Shepard trailed off and Samantha frowned.  
“What?”

“You know. Doing what I had to so that I could stay alive another day. Not things I feel comfortable talking about in detail. Let’s just say bad things were done to me and I did a lot of bad things myself, and let’s leave it at that.”  
“Okay,” Samantha whispered. She didn’t need the details. She didn’t want them. She was relatively certain that no matter how terrible the mental images she could conjure up could be, they didn’t even hold a candle to what the reality of it all had been.

“I just wanted a family,” Shepard said, her voice thick with such sadness it made Samantha’s heart ache, and she tightened her hold on Shepard, wishing she could’ve been there to comfort her long before now, knowing that whatever she did would never completely erase the hurt. Wounds can heal, but they can never forget, and that was how it should be; if you forget the pain, how are you supposed to recall what caused it and know to avoid it the next time it crosses your path?

“I wanted the things every other kid had. I wanted parents who’d drive me nuts by being over-protective and then to complain about them to my friends. I wanted sleepovers with friends in my room and my mom to bring us cookies. I wanted my dad to embarrass me when I brought home my first boyfriend or girlfriend,” Shepard listed ruefully.

“Or… at least those are the kind of things I always heard everyone else complain about. And when I overheard kids genuinely complaining about their homes over the dumbest reasons, I wanted to kick the shit out of them for being such ungrateful little shits,” she continued, her hands instinctively balling into tight fists as the sudden surge of anger flashed through her.

“Let’s just say that I didn’t want to be me,” Shepard sighed and turned a little so that she was almost lying on her side. She reached to put her arm around Samantha’s midsection and pressed the side of her face onto Samantha’s chest, letting out a long, exhausted breath as she closed her eyes.

“Who do you want to be now?”

“I still don’t want to be me. Good Lord, why would I?” Shepard chuckled. “Sure, the title’s fancy, but God, at what cost does it come? Everyone’s always needing something from me. Save the galaxy, lend me credits, get my cat down from the tree. I’m sick of being the savior, I’m sick of the responsibility. I never wanted this, and I certainly didn’t ask for it,” she then muttered, her words angrier than her voice; she was too exhausted, physically and mentally, to even get angry anymore.

“If you could do anything you want, right now… what would you want to do?” Samantha then inquired, and Shepard barely needed two seconds to think about it.

“I want to go home. I mean, I’d need to get one first, but… yeah, I’d want to do the thing everyone else can do. Go home, stay in bed without having to feel guilt because no one needs me for the rest of the day or the day after, I have no responsibilities, I get to just… be home.”

Samantha ran her fingers through Shepard’s hair and rested her cheek against the top of her head. She then moved her hand to cup Shepard’s face, caressing her cheek with the side of her thumb.

“I’ll take you home, my love,” she whispered. “I promise.”

***


	13. Fragile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to "they were obviously hitting on you" for Shaynor

_Oh, this is gonna be a long night,_ Shepard groaned internally the moment she entered the party venue, wincing when her name was announced, and everyone’s attention turned to her. She’d always hated parties and having to socialize with people she didn’t know. Friends and crewmates were one thing, having a few drinks with them was fun, but this was hell.

“Give me a reaper any day over this,” Shepard mumbled to Samantha as they linked arms and got as far as three steps into the room before being surrounded by a horde of curious people wanting to either shake Shepard’s hand or just express their gratitude to her for saving the galaxy, or inquire about her marital status, completely ignoring the fact that her wife was standing right next to her. It was insulting, but Samantha had learned to ignore it. It didn’t matter to her what others thought or about how rude and inconsiderate they could be; what mattered to her was Shepard’s feelings for her, and Shepard had shown her nothing but unconditional love and devotion from day one. Frankly, Samantha was certain Shepard was more offended by these people’s assumptions than Samantha herself was.

“Samantha Traynor,” a familiar voice said, and the specialist turned to face the tall brunette standing behind her.  
“Jessie,” Samantha said, her eyebrows rising in surprise. “Wow, I haven’t seen you since… I don’t even remember.”

They went on to chat for a moment and Shepard cleared her throat a little, her eyebrow quirked in a silent question since she hadn’t been introduced to Samantha’s friend.  
“Oh, Shepard, this is Jessie, we’ve known each other since university. And this is…”

“Commander Shepard, I know,” Jessie chuckled reaching to firmly shake Shepard’s hand.

It didn’t take long for someone to come tug on Shepard’s sleeve and practically drag her away to continue the endless and pointless questions about the war, no one ever seeming to realize that the poster image of tough marines boasting about victories was almost completely nothing but childish bravado; Shepard had no desire to endlessly brag about what she’d done. She supposed it had become expected and normal to boast about confirmed kills. She’d never seen the appeal of doing that or glorifying the violence she’d lived through. She wasn’t a krogan.

With kills came guilt. Granted, recently her enemy had been a horde of machines and kinda-sorta-zombies, but she’d killed “normal” people during her years. Mercenaries. Other soldiers. Sometimes her own men and women. She hadn’t pulled the trigger on them herself, but she’d given the orders and they’d followed. Followed and gotten killed for their efforts. The fact that there’d been times when her only options had been “kill or be killed” didn’t make the weight of it all any lighter.

These hoity-toity morons tearing at her barely healed wounds with every word that reminded her of the war obviously had no idea what it was like for her. All they saw was the victory and the aftermath. They’d labeled her brave, a goddess of vengeance, the strongest link in the chain, fearless, the savior. They had no idea who the woman underneath all these stupid and ultimately pointless titles was.

They didn’t know she still woke up to nightmares on a regular basis, the disturbing dreams leaving her feeling fragmented and scared for the entire day afterward. They didn’t know how depressed she got from time to time or that she cried more often than she cared to admit (for reasons she couldn’t even pin point exactly, she just felt so horrible some days it paralyzed her and all she could do was cry and pray that it would pass sooner rather than later). They didn’t know anything, and the most insulting part about it all was that they didn’t even care.

They didn’t want to know the truth even if she had wanted to tell them. She was supposed to be the beacon of hope, the definition of stoic to the end. She wasn’t allowed to shatter under the pressure.

If she was honest, she admitted she had no idea where she’d be right now if it weren’t for Samantha. She knew she could’ve counted on her crew and friends to help her through the recovery process, of course. But that would’ve left her alone with her most inner thoughts and demons she couldn’t bring herself to reveal to anyone other than Samantha. The fact she hadn’t ran away the moment she’d realized just how splintered Shepard truly was at the core after everything spoke volumes of her character.

Shepard was getting frustrated with everyone talking her ear off, but more than that, she was starting to feel the unpleasant scratching of anxiety’s claws slowly creeping their way up from her gut and into her chest, beginning to hollow it out one strip of flesh at a time. That was certainly what it felt like anyway. She eyed the crowd, looking for Samantha.

When she located her wife, the panic that had begun pricking her heart with its dirty needles was replaced by something different, something she almost didn’t recognize at first since it was such a rare emotion for her to feel. Jealousy.

Samantha was still chatting with Jessie, but at some point, Jessie had moved noticeably closer to Samantha. She was offering a wide smile and reaching to subtly touch Samantha’s forearm as she spoke.

_That bitch is flirting with my wife while I’m right here! Some nerve she’s got,_ Shepard mused agitatedly as she walked across the room and paused to stand next to Samantha. Once she and Jessie finished talking, Shepard put her arm around Samantha’s waist and pressed her side against hers before turning to kiss her lips deeply.

“I’m gonna go call a cab and head home,” she then let Samantha know.  
“Are you okay?” she asked, the way she looked at Shepard asking all the follow-up questions necessary without needing to say a word.

“I’m fine, I just hate these gatherings,” Shepard smiled a little, “but you stay if you’d like, I don’t mind,” she then assured. It was a lie, but at the same time, she really didn’t want to ruin Samantha’s evening if she was having a good time.

“I’ll take the same ride home, it is getting late, just give me a moment?” Samantha smiled, and Shepard nodded, barely resisting the urge to stick her tongue out and blow a raspberry at Jessie when she noticed the almost devastated look on the brunette’s face. Apparently, Jessie had assumed her chat with Samantha had been interesting enough to convince Samantha to stay longer. Shepard leaned to kiss Samantha’s lips deeply once more before beginning to head out to call the cab.

“Wow. You’re lucky she didn’t pee on you,” Jessie commented with a smirk.  
“Excuse me?” Samantha frowned.

“You know, to mark you as her property,” Jessie elaborated.  
“Oh, you’re imagining it. Shepard doesn’t get like that,” Samantha laughed softly.

“Sure, sure, if you say so,” Jessie shrugged one shoulder. They said good night and Samantha went outside where Shepard was already sitting in the cab, waiting for her.  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Samantha then asked to make sure and Shepard sighed a little.

“I just needed to get out of there. I’m sorry if I spoiled your evening.”  
“It’s okay, I was getting bored anyway,” Samantha dismissed, and Shepard narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Is that so? Because it looked to me like you and Jessie were having a pretty good time…”  
“Shepard, please.”

“What, she was obviously hitting on you.”  
“Are you seriously saying you’re jealous?”

“I am.”  
“Well, now you know how I feel daily no matter where we go because everyone wants to sleep with my wife,” Samantha quipped, and Shepard hung her head a little.

“I can’t say that it’s a pleasant feeling, but I don’t invite people to behave that way, I’d rather they didn’t do that. I mean, I’m not saying you invited Jessie to behave that way either, I’m just… you know what I mean.”

“I know, and I’m not blaming you, Shepard. I admit that you have your moments of being cute and irresistible, how could anyone not try to bed you,” Samantha winked with a smile and interlaced her fingers with Shepard’s, squeezing the commander’s hand into her own gently.

“Very funny.”  
“And…! And, I gotta say, I’m flattered the great Commander Shepard would be jealous of little old me!”

“Seriously? Sammy, if it weren’t for you, we probably never would’ve beaten the reapers. Think about it. Cerberus would’ve stolen the Normandy and my identity if it weren’t for you and your toothbrush. The kids at the Grissom academy would’ve probably gotten killed or coerced to work for Cerberus. We wouldn’t have been able to track Kai Leng if it hadn’t been for you. EDI would probably still be offline if it weren’t for your efforts to bring her back good as new,” Shepard listed and paused to inhale deeply before continuing: “And most importantly, you looked after my stupid ass and loved me even when I least deserved it, you have no idea how much I needed you to get through all this. You're my everything.”

“Meh, all in a day’s work,” Samantha smiled.

***


	14. Try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to "Did you just throw money at her? F/F Mass effect".

“Come on, Shepard, I’ll give you three credits if you make it to the top of the hill faster than Joker would,” James taunted as he jogged in a wide circle around Shepard, who was huffing and taking slow, shaky steps, being supported by Liara.  
“Screw you,” Shepard humphed as she tried to force her body to move but it refused to cooperate.

“Come on, come on, three credits, it’s a start of a million,” James laughed and dug into his pocket.  
“Did you just throw money at her?” Liara scoffed when a credit chit impacted on Shepard’s chest with a soft thud before bouncing off and clattering as it hit the ground.

“Well, now you took away my incentive,” Shepard said and held up the one credit she’d caught. “Besides, I don’t need to walk, I’ll just have Liara haul me around with her biotics.”  
“Come on, you’re probably gonna live another hundred years, is that how you want to spend the rest of your life?” James asked and stopped moving around restlessly.

“Not to mention that I have no intention of doing that,” Liara chimed in.  
“Pft, a hundred years is nothing to an asari, and I’ve seen you lift James up with your biotics, I don’t see why you wouldn’t do this for me.”

“Because it’ll be easier if you just bothered doing your exercises and tried even,” Liara muttered.  
“I saved the damn galaxy, I think I’ve earned my rest,” Shepard smirked.

“Is this the same woman who once beat my record of pull-ups? You can do better than this,” James said.  
“I was using my back and arms, not my legs,” Shepard pointed out.

“Then start walking on your hands, because I’m not carrying you around and I sure as hell am not going to be your personal walker either,” Liara said and let go, turning on her heel and heading back the way they’d came. James hurried to catch Shepard before she lost her balance as the muscles on her thighs gave in, unable to support her.

“Would you mind walking me back home?” Shepard mumbled and James nodded, deciding it would be better not to ask questions, the details didn’t matter, he could imagine how annoying and stubborn Shepard must’ve been at home, and he could imagine how much that had to frustrate Liara. The fact that Shepard kept joking about the situation and playing around wasn’t helping.

What Liara didn’t realize was that making dark jokes about her condition was Shepard’s way of coping with it. If she wouldn’t be able to reduce it into a childish battle of wills and talk about it like it wasn’t serious, it would become real and terrifying. Joking about it was the only thing she could do to alleviate her own fears… the unfortunate side effect of doing so was that Liara got frustrated.

Shepard understood why she did; there she was, trying her damnest to help Shepard recover, trying to ensure she would be okay and very well lived to be a hundred and fifty, and how did Shepard react? By messing around and joking about it like Liara’s efforts didn’t matter, like Shepard didn’t care about recovering or living. It was insulting to Liara.

After putting an end to the war, Shepard had spent over a year in a hospital, recovering from the injuries she’d sustained. She’d been in a coma for the most part, but the worst thing about the lengthy recovery process was what it had done to her body.

She hadn’t been able to move for over half a year. As a result, the muscles in her body had atrophied to the point of her being almost completely unable to even sit up by herself at first. She’d worked through some of it, strengthening her core and arms, but her legs were still giving her trouble.

She knew it wouldn’t take forever to recover and the truth was, she could work toward that with very little effort most of the time, simply trying to stand up on her own without using her arms to push herself up would’ve done the trick. But the easer the exercise, the more annoying it was to realize she couldn’t pull it off.

That’s when she got worried and when she got worried, she began making stupid jokes which frustrated Liara and resulted in situations like this: Liara would try with her and Shepard would chisel away at her patience until Liara would give up.

“I can’t stand it when you make me get so angry at you,” Liara said after James had helped Shepard to take a seat on the high arm chair (from which it was easier for Shepard to get up) and left.  
“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want an apology, I want you to take this seriously.”  
“I can’t.”

“Then why am I even trying!” Liara yelled and squeezed her hands into tight fists. She hated getting angry at Shepard over this because in a way she felt it wasn’t Shepard’s fault. She didn’t want to just abandon Shepard like she had earlier, but it was like Shepard was enjoying being miserable.

“You matter to me! I need you to be okay! I love you and I don’t want to lose you, and you seem so determined to just give up now? I don’t understand why! Why are you like this!” Liara cried and gripped Shepard’s forearms.  
“Because I’m scared! I’m scared because the truth is, I _am_ trying, and this is the best I can do. Now do you understand?”

“I don’t because I know you, you’re more resilient than this,” Liara said, shaking her head and letting the tears fall freely from the tip of her chin where they’d remained for a moment after sliding down her cheeks.

“Yeah, well, maybe not anymore. I gave my everything, I don’t have anything more to offer and I wish people would just leave me alone!” Shepard spat and struggled to stand up so that she could storm out of the room. It would’ve been more effective and delightfully dramatic had she managed to do it within a few seconds. Instead, she barely had what it took to keep herself upright for longer than a few seconds.

She lurched forward and would’ve landed face first onto the floor had Liara not caught her into the safety of a biotic hold.

“Please, just… leave me alone,” Shepard said, leaning her elbows to her thighs, her chin firmly against her sternum as she refused to look at Liara. She felt embarrassed, humiliated, betrayed by her own body.

Liara sighed internally and left the room, pausing to stand by the door after closing it behind her, feeling a hollow ache in her chest when she heard Shepard’s sobs and knew she couldn’t do anything to help.

* * *

Shepard had fallen asleep in the chair and the room was quiet and dim when Liara entered it again later that evening. She reached to gently cup Shepard’s cheek and ran her thumb over the cheekbone. Shepard frowned in her sleep and finally opened her eyes slowly.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” Liara whispered.  
“I told you to,” Shepard said tiredly.

“All the more reason why I shouldn’t have left,” Liara smiled. Shepard sat up straight and ran a hand over her face.

“I’m sorry I’m making this so difficult, I don’t mean to, but I’m just so tired of having to try and try and nothing’s changing. I just need some time off from this whole trying to recover-thing,” she mumbled. Liara inhaled and exhaled deeply, fighting the urge to argue about it because she knew that would only make it worse… and because she had to admit that Shepard was right, she did need a break.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Liara began, shaking her head a little as she went to take a seat on the armrest of the chair, reaching the wrap her arm around Shepard’s shoulder and pulling her closer.

“I’ve been pushing you too hard and instead of just encouraging you, I’ve been nagging at you and demanding that you do more. I’ve been selfish, I just wanted you to get better fast because I don’t know how to handle this… handle having you hurt. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”  
“No, it’s not.”

“Either way, I forgive you. From now on, let’s just… try not to get on each other’s nerves. I’ll quit being an inconsiderate idiot about this and you stop nagging at me, and… we’ll figure this out together in time,” Shepard reasoned and put her arm around Liara’s waist, leaning to rest her head against Liara’s chest.

“Sounds like a plan,” Liara smiled and nuzzled the top of Shepard’s head.  
“Good. Now… would you carry me to bed?”

“Hah, wouldn’t that hurt your pride?” Liara chuckled.  
“I’d rather hurt my pride than my neck trying to sleep in this chair,” Shepard smiled.

“I’ll help you, but you’re walking,” Liara said.  
“What’s the point of having a strong biotic bondmate if she won’t even carry me to the bed?” Shepard whined dramatically.

“Fine,” Liara sighed, stood up and held her arm out, engulfing Shepard into a biotic field, lifting her up from the chair. “But tomorrow, you’re walking up that hill,” she added as she headed upstairs, tugging Shepard with her.  
“We’ll see…” Shepard smirked and Liara narrowed her eyes a little, raising Shepard a little higher so that she softly bumped her head into the ceiling as they entered the bedroom.

“You did that on purpose!” Shepard complained.  
“Indeed, and you deserved it,” Liara quirked an eyebrow, lowering Shepard onto the bed gently.

“I’ll behave,” Shepard then promised, pushing herself more toward the center of the bed and settled to lie down. Liara joined her and put her arms around Shepard’s shoulders, letting her fingers tangle into the deep red hair as she pressed her lips onto Shepard’s forehead and kissed it.

“Get some rest, you have a lot of work to do tomorrow,” Liara smiled.

“You have no idea, I took James’s bet. Joker and I have a race to the top of the hill in the morning, and I intend to win. I want my three credits.”

***


	15. 3 A.M.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a response to "You always had me" for Shiara

In her nightmares, Liara relived the moment of being forced to let Shepard go and head into the conduit. The unimaginable pain of having to stay behind and watch her run across the battlefield made her heart feel like it was being torn asunder with rusty, small hooks, leaving behind a raw mess of aching shreds that felt nothing but agony, desperation and denial. It was unfair, after everything that they’d been through, after she’d already lost Shepard once and miraculously gotten her back, this wasn’t right.

“Hey…” Shepard whispered, her arm tightening around Liara as she pulled the asari closer and nuzzled into the back of her neck. Liara had been crying in her sleep.  
“It’s okay, I got you… I got you,” Shepard assured quietly until the sobs ceased and Liara woke up slowly from the bad dream, unable to shake the feelings of hurt it had invoked.

“I got you,” Shepard repeated.  
“I know. You always had me,” Liara sniffled a little, smiling through tears that were turning into tears of relief. _It was just a bad dream._

Except, once upon a time, it had been more than that.

“From the first moment we met to…” Liara trailed off and took Shepard’s hand into her own, holding onto it tightly.  
“Everything’s okay. We’re okay,” Shepard said and leaned to plant a row of soft kisses onto Liara’s shoulder, trailing her lips up along the side of her neck and nuzzled into it for a moment before Liara turned to face Shepard.

“I know, but you know what it’s like when your subconscious insists otherwise during the night,” Liara said and Shepard smiled a little. She knew perfectly well.  
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” Shepard asked quietly.

“Just be there,” Liara whispered and moved to rest her head on Shepard’s chest and Shepard put her arm around Liara’s shoulders, holding onto her firmly.  Shepard ran her fingertips over Liara’s shoulder and up along the side of her neck, her touch light but not so that it would tickle. Liara let out a quiet approving moan at the gentle strokes and closed her eyes, listening to the steady and strong sound of Shepard’s heart beating and the soft hum of her breath.

“I got you,” Shepard whispered again and Liara began to slowly drift back to sleep, a sense of security and warmth settling within her with the knowledge that everything was right in the world once more. 

The nightmares wouldn’t stop, not completely, she wasn’t foolish enough to think they would. But, she was beginning to see something good about them. They were reminders, occasionally painful reminders, of how differently everything could’ve gone, and they were now serving a greater purpose. They were there to remind her that no matter how desperate things had been not so long ago, they’d survived it. And if they’d survived something as terrifying as that, there was nothing that they wouldn’t get through.


End file.
